Redemption
by jfb
Summary: Regency, D&E HEA. Elizabeth and Jane are children of Mr. Bennet's first marriage. The results of Ramsgate are more dire than in canon. We begin on the night of the Meryton Assembly.
1. Chapter 1

Well, here we go again. But, before we start, there are a few things I need to say.

First, while many characters are borrowed from history to play parts in this little drama, please remember that THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. Do not accuse real people, long passed away, of the actions that I lay at their doors.

And now a **WARNING: **Very real events inspired this tale of fiction and some of them are more than unpleasant. There is even a rape in the background of our tale **although you will not see it and it does not occur to or by any of our favorite characters.** Other parts of my tale are also disturbing. This is D&E HEA, but there are characters who will not survive. For your peace of mind, I want to begin what I consider the worst up front, so you will not be dreading what is to come. It is exposed at the end of this post. That said, I will quote what Akers is about to say, "Trust me." The only things explicit that you will ever run into are of a pleasant nature.

Thank you FeliciaHM and Buzzy. All mistakes are mine. I don't just tinker after people have read this, I positively alter.

**Redemption**

_**History Note:**__ It was the time of the King's first madness, the fall of 1788. He had gone riding and was caught in a storm. He became very ill - fever and convulsions. Over the next weeks, he worsened. He suffered insomnia and delusions. He went from periods of vicious anger to strange calm. Then, he began trying to - importune - the Queen's ladies._

**Chapter 1**

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**October 15, 1811**

Akers put the last pearl tipped pin into Miss Elizabeth's hair and stepped back_. Perfection_. The deep mahogany hair - so thick, so soft, so wavy - was magnificent to work with. Miss Elizabeth had objected to using the pearl pins for a country assembly, but Akers had prevailed.

"Madam, I will use only a few; just enough to add some shimmers in the candlelight tonight. Trust me."

Elizabeth had and there was no denying the results. It was not ostentatious or overdone. With a modest necklace as the only other jewelry, there could be no complaints that Elizabeth's adornments were above her company. After Akers helped her mistress into the soft green gown, the abigail was even more pleased. Although simple, the gown's fabric was slightly shimmery and draped Elizabeth's curves beautifully. But the neighborhood was well used to the fine fabrics that Elizabeth and Jane wore. There would no comments on Elizabeth's appearance other than how well she looked.

As Miss Elizabeth smiled at Akers through the mirror, she was even more pleased. This gown was just the match for her mistress' eyes, only a few shades lighter. Both the gown and the eyes helped each other sparkle. Yes. Her mistress looked very well indeed.

The pleasure of both mistress and servant was rudely interrupted when Elizabeth's dressing room door was flung open and bounced loudly off the wall. A huffing Lydia Bennet stared at her older sister.

"Lizzy! This is ridiculous! That footman won't let me into Jane's rooms!"

_Robert. He has a name, Lydia. _

"So, YOU must let me borrow things for tonight! And you must let me use Akers! Tawney is nothing to her!" Lydia stared defiantly at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth looked calmly back at her youngest sister. These particular demands were oft repeated. No girl of fifteen had any business being out, especially this one. She was wild, loud and altogether ill-mannered. Elizabeth's words to her father on the subject always fell on deaf ears. _"It is no more that I expect. She is Fannie's daughter. Leave them to it." Easy for you to say, Father. You stay in your book-room and I must suffer her behavior in public._

"The rules are not mine, as you well know. I will not defy Father. If you have complaint, Lydia, you must go to him."

The two sisters stared at each other. Finally, Lydia gave way and with a loud "Humph!" stomped out of the room.

Elizabeth sighed and then determined to set it all from her mind. She had no control over Lydia, Fannie or her father.

"Thank you Akers. You should rest now if you can. Mother will not wish leave until the ball closes down. She is determined to acquire Mr. Bingley for one of her daughters. I am sure it will be very late when we come home." Elizabeth wanted to offer for Akers to retire for the night. This gown was an easy one and there would not be much to undressing herself. If she did need anything, Jane or Bartlett could help. However, Akers had never agreed when Elizabeth insisted that she not wait up. Tonight it would be even more completely out of the question. Akers would want to hear all about the famous Mr. Bingley.

**Assembly Rooms, Meryton**

**October 15, 1811**

As the Netherfield party entered, silence fell over the entire room. Elizabeth immediately felt a keen embarrassment. What must these new neighbors feel to be so blatantly stared at by a room full of strangers? Her eyes searched in vain for at least some people who were exhibiting better behavior. No. They were all, every one of them, focused unabashedly on the newcomers. It was between sets, so there was not even the distraction of music or dancing. Of course everyone was curious. Rumors had run wild about the handsome bachelor that now resided among them. However, this was no excuse for such an appalling lack of manners. Worse still, Elizabeth could almost smell and taste the greed in the room. _These are new neighbors, not supper!_She would not be a party to this. She blushed and looked down at the floor.

The Darcys were a tall breed. Even from his position behind the Bingleys and the Hursts, Darcy was able to see the whole assembly. The present hush and the staring were nothing new. He had known how it would be. He was wealthy, powerful, handsome and single. First, the room would look him over. Next they would follow the predictable pattern. Slowly murmurings would start and soon the entire room would be discussing his wealth, his person, and how to get a part of him. Now, with price paid for such avarice so fresh and raw, he could hardly bear to be here. _At least tonight Bingley will share in the attention. Maybe that will help._

He was not sure what drew his gaze to the petite brunette at the side of the room. Perhaps it was the movement of her head in an otherwise still room. She was not eying his party but was examining the rest of the assembly. As her face turned back toward Darcy's direction, he was able to see that she looked mortified. Her flush deepened and she finally stared down at the floor. _Well, at least someone here recognizes poor behavior. The Ton should take a page from her book. _

After what felt like ages but was in truth only a few moments, chatter began all around and was followed closely by the music starting up again. Elizabeth finally allowed her eyes to rise and go to the newcomers.

"And so, Charlotte, do you know who they are?"

As her good friend explained the identities and relationships of the fine people who were now speaking with Charlotte's father, Elizabeth formed her own first impressions. Mr. Bingley was indeed handsome. He was responding to Sir William in an eager, happy manner. He appeared genuinely delighted to be here.

His sisters were another matter entirely. They were elegantly dressed, much too elegantly for a country assembly. Both faces showed they thought little of their surroundings. Elizabeth sighed. Until this moment of disappointment, she had not known how much she had been wishing for new acquaintances with some intelligence and good sense. Meryton was such a confined society. Sadly, these sisters promised not to provide the good sense. Intelligence would be of questionable use without it. No, these women would not be pleasant and would not give Elizabeth what she had so unconsciously sought.

Any gloom was instantly forgot and Elizabeth had to withhold a chuckle as her eyes moved to the Mr. Hurst. With his paunch, jowls, ruddy nose and heavy-lidded eyes, he looked to be an exaggerated caricature of an indolent gentleman.

The Bingley party walked off with Sir William, undoubtedly for introductions. As they cleared away, the tall man in the back did not move and Elizabeth finally let her eyes fall on him. A frisson ran through her and her heart began to beat rapidly. Then, he moved. Elizabeth was mesmerized by the powerful way in which he strode. Even from this great distance she thought she could feel heat emanating from this dark-haired beast. _Where did that ridiculous notion come from?_

Elizabeth was just chastising herself to stop such strange thoughts when, suddenly, his eyes met her own. She was frozen under his intense stare. A wave of dizziness seemed to rise up through her belly and into her chest. She could hardly breathe. Ripping her eyes away, she once again looked to the floor. She shivered.

In a daze, Elizabeth felt a hand on her arm and allowed herself to be led away. Slowly her senses returned. Her sister Jane still held Elizabeth's arm and her mother's voice began to intrude. Internally, Elizabeth was berating herself. How could she be so affected by a stranger? It would not do. She was not used to being so unsettled and she would not let it happen now.

Mr. Darcy's subsequent behavior was of great help to Elizabeth as she strove to overcome her strange reactions. First, he practically refused to stand up with her, actually walking away in the middle of Mrs. Bennet's machinations. Then, as the evening wore on, he prowled the edges of the room, dancing and speaking with no one except those in his own party. He had not even looked at her again. Elizabeth almost rejoiced as she listened to the gossiping of the crowd. Their initial admiration of his wealth and his fine person was rapidly giving way to disgust at his rude behavior. Still, he disturbed her in a way never felt before. She could not join her neighbors in their derision nor could she dismiss him from her mind.

Thankfully, Jane provided a welcome distraction. It was clear that she was smitten with the handsome Mr. Bingley and he seemed likewise mesmerized by the beautiful Miss Bennet.

This left Elizabeth feeling lighter somehow, more her normal self. She firmly decided just to enjoy the evening. Her eyes betrayed her and constantly sought the tall, aloof man.

What little time Darcy spent not buried in his private hell was still miserable. This gathering was everything abhorrent. It was the combination of the ignorant lower classes and greedy people clamoring for favor. Bingley owed him a great deal for appearing here tonight.

_But that is not quite right!_ Something was niggling at his mind. Something in his awareness was starting to shift, had shifted. Darcy realized that he had automatically given voice to his parents' beliefs. They had taught him, from early years, that he occupied a superior and God-given position among men; that he should think meanly of the value of others. But he realized that his disdain this evening would be no different if he were in the ballroom of a Duke. It had nothing to do with who these people were but rather with what they were doing! _They, the Ton, Wickham – even my own relations! They are all the same! _ What had happened to Georgiana was bringing everything into clear relief. Almost no one on the face of earth actually cared about Darcy or Georgiana. They were simply game for fortune hunters of all shapes and sizes.

_Not everyone_. Darcy mind went back to that petite brunette who had shown clearly that she was not part of this. _And her eyes!_ Where was she? He searched the room. Who was she? His mind flew to that Mrs. Bennet he had met. During the introduction, he thought he had seen the brunette out of the corner of his eye. He had no time to look at her then. No. He had been focused on quashing the pretensions of that vulgar Bennet woman. Was the brunette really near her? Yes, she might have been. _Did I slight her? Can she be related to that loud woman? Surely not. _

Suddenly Bingley was at his elbow. _His new angel. Yes, she is handsome. You want me to dance? You cannot be serious. Which creature do you mean?_ Luckily Darcy bit back his scathing response and took enough time to look over at the girl in question_. It is she!_

"Thank you, Bingley. I would welcome the introduction."

**Lucas Lodge, Hertfordshire**

**October 22, 1811**

He found his eyes returning to her again and again. Something about the little creature pulled at him. He was aware of his entire body, from the rub of his lawn shirt against his chest to the silk of the stockings on his legs to the restriction of his neck cloth as he swallowed. When he raised a glass of wine to his lips, he felt the tension in each finger and every small flexing of the muscles in his hand. The cool of the glass met the sensitive skin on his lip. Then he felt every place in his mouth that the wine touched. When Darcy let his eyes wander to her bosom, he was not surprised by his body's more visceral reaction.

He turned away to control himself, but in a few moments he was seeking her out again. He enjoyed the creamy shoulders, the trim and elegant arms, that mass of dark, luxuriant curls that threatened to escape its confines, and that magnificent chest moving and swelling in time with its owner's song. Saving the best for last, he would now indulge in the sparkle of those intelligent eyes. As he allowed his eyes to go to her face, he started. He was spellbound by her pure, innocent pleasure. In this tiny, countrified gathering, she was completely immersed in the music.

Darcy felt a lump rise in his throat. How would it be to be able to feel such a carefree moment of pleasure? It had been so long. All the present darkness in his life came crashing back to him. But, in that brief moment before he could be lost to despair, she finished playing and he heard her laugh.

The warm, happy sound reached him, washed over him, grabbed hold of him and somehow stopped his spiral into grief. Could he have recognized what he was feeling at the moment, Darcy would have known hope, hope that some happiness was still possible. As it was, he only reacted instinctively. His eyes sought hers, desperate and hungry to hold onto this small touch of real light.

**Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire**

**November 16, 1811**

He was determinedly fixed on the pages before him. _I will not look at her again! _ Darcy had been battling this attraction for weeks. She was intelligent, witty, charming and certainly desirable. Her manners and comportment were of the highest standard. Yes, she was playful, but always a lady. Moreover, the way she dealt with all of Miss Bingley's slurs showed a true grace. And now, he was almost completely done in by the love and devotion that Elizabeth had shown her sister. _But Mrs. Bennet! Her sisters! Her connections! No one even knows who her real mother is! No! I will not look at her again._ His mind willed his eyes to behave, but they would not. They rose and turned to stare again at the soft vision that sat not ten feet from him.

Her deep mahogany hair was a sharp contrast to the softness of all the other shades about her. One long curl had escaped its pins. Darcy's traitorous eyes followed it down, past the creamy expanse of her chest, to where it flowed right over one of her breasts. His mind unfastened her dress, loosened her corset, and pulled down everything down; exposing that magnificent bosom to the light. _One mound fully visible, the now embarrassed nipple contracted while the other nipple remained covered by that glorious dark curl. _

Suddenly her hand came up, gathering the curl to twist it in her fingers. Darcy's immediate thought was that she was purposefully torturing him. His eyes flew to her face. Her eyes were not on him. She was completely concentrating on her book. _No, she does not torture me. She seems unaware that I am even here. No. No. I have felt it; seen it. She is not unmoved!_ No. She was unsuitable. An alliance would be a disgrace. He would not go there again.

How had he come to this, aching like a school boy for a woman so beneath him, a woman who alternately completely ignored or teased him? How had he come to any of this, waiting at Bingley's small estate for words of relief or doom? So much for the controlled life of Fitzwilliam Darcy! He signed loudly in disgust.  
**_**

Elizabeth Bennet was well aware that Darcy was in the room. At his loud sigh, her eyes flew up from her page and over to the confusing man.

His signals were too mixed to allow her to make him out. Sometimes she was certain that he admired her. At other times she was equally certain he held her in contempt. But, there was no mistaking the severe disapproval that this loud sigh had just voiced. She had just started to wonder what she had done now to be further subject to disdain, when she noticed that he was not really looking at her. His eyes were pointed in her direction, but they were distant. Yes, they were filled with loathing, but it was not directed at her. Then she saw an intense pain there, so deep and strong that she softly gasped.

Elizabeth had seen this man briefly at the Meryton Assembly and again at Lucas Lodge. This was the man who had called to her soul when he caught her eyes. On top of the physical pull that she felt towards him, these looks had been too much. No matter what anyone said, no matter how much he was disliked in the neighborhood, Elizabeth bore a powerful, tender feeling for him. Even all of Mr. Darcy's arrogant behavior had not washed the feeling away. She had tried to build a wall around her heart, but she knew he had already claimed a place there. She was painfully sorry for it and had tried to distance herself from him as much as possible. Even if he did admire her, she was too far beneath him for him to ever act on it. Nonetheless, she ached at this rejection and knew she would ache even more when he finally left the neighborhood.

In the meantime, her pride refused to let him know how he affected her. Luckily, the sound of her gasp was covered by a knock on the library door. Mr. Bingley's ever efficient butler delivered a letter to Mr. Darcy's hands. Elizabeth saw him read the envelope. His face lost all its color and Elizabeth thought the man might actually faint.

"Oh, Mr. Darcy!" The shrill, false tones of Miss Bingley cut clearly into the room. She must be in the hallways, somewhere nearby.

"Not her. Not now." Darcy's voice was calm and controlled, but Elizabeth felt his desperation. "Please, do not give me away." He stood up suddenly and, crumbling the letter in his fist, made his way to a panel by the bookcases and disappeared inside.

Miss Bingley sauntered into the room, obviously trying to move in a most seductive fashion. She came up sharply when she saw not her conquest but her unwanted houseguest before her.

"Miss Eliza." Caroline nearly spat the words. "What a surprise to see you here. Dear Jane must be recovered for you to leave her side."

Elizabeth schooled her features. She would have time later to consider all that she had just seen. For now, she had a very strong desire to protect Mr. Darcy from this fortune hunting shrew. Ignoring her own pain, she would concentrate only on his situation. He needed her at the moment and she would not fail him.

"Yes, Miss Bingley. She sleeps now, but she is decidedly better. Hopefully we shall be able to return home tomorrow. We are most grateful for all your hospitality."

Caroline actually gave a small nod in acceptance of Elizabeth's thanks, but Caroline's eyes were darting all around the room. They came to rest on the book Mr. Darcy had abandoned on the settee. Suspicion was all over her face as she looked again at Elizabeth.

"I am looking for Mr. Darcy. I understood he was within." Her voice was full of accusation.

"Indeed, he was here briefly, Miss Bingley." Elizabeth emphasized the word briefly. "I believe he received a letter. Perhaps he has gone off to read it."

Caroline's eyes searched the library and she took one step forward. For a moment, Elizabeth was sure the witch would look behind every bookcase and piece of furniture. However, she must have thought the better of it because she suddenly turned and huffily left the room.

Elizabeth waited a few moments as the loud swishes Miss Bingley's skirts faded away. Then, Elizabeth rose and went to the panel. After knocking softly, she said, "It is Miss Elizabeth, sir. She is gone."

The panel opened partway to reveal an embarrassed Mr. Darcy who was still holding the crumpled letter. "Forgive me for further importuning you, Miss Elizabeth, but she will be back. Would you mind, do I ask too much..? Could you possibly bring me a candle? Miss Bingley does not seem to know about this room. I must read this letter."

His eyes were pleading. Elizabeth could only nod. She picked up a candle and lit it from the fireplace. Holding her hand behind it to protect the flame, she carefully returned to the panel and wordlessly handed it to Mr. Darcy.

He nodded his thanks and retreated into what Elizabeth now saw to be a little room, complete with settee, chair, tables and bookcases. Her manners overrode her curiosity and she withdrew, gently closing the panel behind her.

Needless to say, her own book could no longer hold her attention. She was, however, determined to pretend that it did. If Mr. Darcy was right, Miss Bingley would soon return in her quest to discover him. Elizabeth had no idea what was behind Mr. Darcy's desperation, but she would not allow Miss Bingley to intrude. The man needed privacy and he was going to get it. Elizabeth Bennet, temporary protector and guardian of Fitzwilliam Darcy, squared her little shoulders.

Miss Bingley did indeed return. This time she entered the library without even acknowledging Elizabeth. The woman did wander all about the room, not missing a single place where someone might be hidden. Elizabeth's heart beat faster as Caroline slowly passed the concealed room. Finally, after making sure her prey was truly not in the library, Miss Bingley left.

Moments later, Elizabeth heard harsh whispering in the hallway outside the library doors. She rose and moved closer, hoping to be able to hear the words.

"Well, you are now stationed right here! Do not dare move until Mr. Darcy returns. Then come and tell me at once! I will be in the drawing room."

_Oh, my! She is having a footman stand guard. I will have to distract him when Mr. Darcy wants to escape the library._

Elizabeth had barely settled back into her chair when she heard a deep moan. It must have come from Mr. Darcy! She held a debate in her head. Surely the man's pride would not tolerate her seeing his misery, but her heart urged offering comfort. What could possibly cause such anguish in the controlled, arrogant man?

Suddenly she heard what must have been a sob. All other thoughts flew away. She must go to him.

He was on the settee, his head in his hands. Even in this obvious state of misery, he was a powerful presence. He seemed to take up so much of this tiny room.

The letter lay at his feet. Elizabeth quietly closed the door and moved over to sit beside him. She gently laid her hand on his arm. He slowly turned his head and looked at her hand. Long moments passed as he stared at it. In reassurance, she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. Suddenly he slid to floor, threw his arms around her, buried his head in her waist and began to sob.

Elizabeth was frozen from shock. This was beyond inappropriate. Never had a man touched her in such a way. But soon, much sooner than she could have imagined, Elizabeth's need to comfort him overrode any other thought. She patted his back and soothingly ran her fingers through his hair. He clasped his arms more tightly around her and eventually he quieted but did not let her go.

Then something shifted. Before, she had felt almost as if he were a small boy clinging to her in his need. Now, Elizabeth could feel the parts of a man; the silky hair between her fingers, the muscles in his arms, each finger that clung to her back, the heat from his head, the rise and fall of his chest as it lay on her thighs. He must have also felt the change for he slowly released her, pulled back, stood up and turned so she could not see his face.

_What must he think of me allowing such familiarity?_

"Forgive me Miss Bennet. I have failed my sister and all my forefathers and now I have failed you, too." He came and sat down beside her, taking her hand. When he spoke again, he looked at her hand and not her face. "Forgive me. I should have never touched you in such a way, should have never importuned you so. I will be honorable."

Surprised by his words, she needed to speak and found her voice. "Mr. Darcy, you are forgiven. Please do not speak so. I am not compromised. Clearly you were not yourself. You have more excuse than I. I am the one who should have pushed you away. If you behaved improperly then so did I. Yet, let us be honest. You have not harmed me and my reputation is intact. No one else need ever know what just happened."

Darcy knew full well that any other woman would have welcomed any chance, no matter how remote, of trapping him. His despair would have meant nothing. _Not his Elizabeth._ He gently squeezed her hand, released it and leaned back against the settee, closing his eyes.

After a few moments, he rose and began to pace. Now and then he would stop and look at her. She knew there were things he wanted to say but could not bring himself to do so. His misery, his sheer physical presence, her confusion, it was all just too much. Elizabeth needed to escape, but first she had to see him to safety.

"Mr. Darcy." It was barely a squeak and he did not seem to register that she had spoken_. Control yourself!_ "Mr. Darcy." There. That was better and he did turn to look at her. "Miss Bingley is truly gone for now, but she has set a footman at the door to watch for you. I will distract him for a minute and you can escape."

He stared at her for the longest time and then finally nodded.

**Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire**

**November 17, 1811**

The eastern sky was barely turning from black to grey, but Darcy was fully dressed and ready for this day.

He had kept to his rooms after leaving the library yesterday. Surprisingly, he had been able to eat the supper that had been brought to him and then had fallen into a deep sleep. He first woke a few hours ago knowing, with utmost certainty, what he needed to do.

It must be done early this morning. The Misses Bennet would leave Netherfield today. This was his opportunity. Thompson was sure that Elizabeth's Akers could be trusted. She would wake Elizabeth and ask her to meet him at dawn.

"Mr. Darcy."

He turned toward her soft voice. She was so beautiful. Even with those dark rings under her eyes, she was a vision. All the hours by her sister and, he knew, his behavior had left her very tired. Yet when he had asked for her, so very early, here she was. If she consented, he would strive every day to let her know how much it all, how much she, meant to him.

"Miss Elizabeth. Thank you for meeting me so early. I am not used to speaking freely about things that are personal, so I hope you can bear with me if I stumble."

Elizabeth could only nod.

Darcy cast his eyes away from hers, seemingly somewhere over her shoulder. Then, he began to speak.

"There is a man who grew up with me. He was the son of our steward and my father was his godfather."

Elizabeth found herself hearing a tale of what seemed to be two people. One was a beloved godson and friend, the other an increasingly selfish and cruel little monster. All through the painful account of growing up with this boy, Mr. Darcy kept his eyes distant. Then, he paused and looked at her for a moment. Whatever he saw must have encouraged him, for he took a deep breath and went on.

"I finally saw the real depth of Wickham's viciousness and of his ability to deceive one afternoon in my father's study. My father had me sitting at his desk, going over ledgers about which he would later question me, while he and George played a game of chess. My father was already ill with that which would carry him away. I enjoyed hearing his laughter as the game went on. From my chair, I could see Wickham's face. His eyes were shining with love and goodwill towards my father. In those moments, I began to doubt some of my feelings. I had seen so much of George's depravity that I had removed myself from his company years before. I temporarily forgot that he was a master at using charm. All I could see was the light he was bringing to my father at that moment. Then, Father got up to leave the room. George was looking at his retreating back. His eyes were cold and hard. I have never seen such hatred. Suddenly he turned to look at me. I was aghast and he knew it. He simply smirked and said 'Too bad you can never let the old bastard know, Darcy. In all your goodness you would never break his heart.' Laughing, he also left the room."

Darcy again looked off into the distance and he appeared lost for a moment in the memory. Then he went on to tell of his father's death, Wickham refusing the legacy of a living and Darcy paying him an enormous sum for its value. For a while, Wickham disappeared from Darcy's life.

"My sister Georgiana and I are all that are left of my line of Darcys. She is more than 10 years my junior."

_Oh, no. His young sister. What did this Wickham do?_

"I have truly failed her. When she finished school, I formed an establishment for her. I was deceived about the character of her new companion. But I, I am the one who hired this woman. I can never be forgiven for that. She turns out to have been a confederate of Mr. Wickham. The ladies went last summer to enjoy the sea air at Ramsgate. I decided to join them for a few days. When I arrived, the house was empty. It took most of that day for me to track down the servants who had been dismissed. To my horror, I learned that Georgiana had eloped with Mr. Wickham. Mrs. Younge, the companion, had gone with them to Scotland."

"She must be a child!"

"Fifteen. There was no moon, so I had to wait until near daylight to set out. I travelled hard and more quickly than I thought possible. When I arrived at Gretna Green, I found them right away. Wickham made sure that it was easy for me to do so. He needed me to discover them. When I burst into the room, my sister raced into my arms. She was crying and shaking. She could not speak. As I held her and comforted her, I looked over at Wickham. Once again he smirked. He loudly said 'You can take the little cold fish. Just leave me the check for her thirty thousand pounds. It is mine now.' Poor Georgie heard and cried all the more. I took great satisfaction in removing the smirk from his face. I told him that he had made a great error. Georgiana's dowry could not be released without my and my cousin's approval, not until she was thirty years old. When he recovered from this shock, he began to laugh. He exclaimed that I would voluntarily turn it over to him or he would keep my sister. It was his right as her husband."

Darcy paused and looked at Elizabeth. "Forgive my crudeness, Miss Elizabeth, but he vowed to use her most vilely until he had her funds."

Elizabeth had tears in her eyes. "Oh, Mr. Darcy. No. It is all too horrible. The poor child. And to think she heard him. Tell me. Please tell me he does not have her."

For the first time today, Elizabeth saw a small smile on Darcy's face.

"No, Miss Elizabeth. He does not have her. I am, forgive me for saying this, but I am a very powerful man. I explained to Wickham that I WAS taking my sister with me and there was nothing he could do. No magistrate and no court would force me to turn my young sister over to the scheming son of servant. I took poor Georgiana and left a screaming Wickham behind."

He stood quietly, again staring off into the distance.

"And the letter, sir?"

His eyes dropped to the ground and he spoke softly, almost a whisper. "We were waiting to see if there would be any – result from the elopement. I knew that Georgiana and I would do our best to love and take care of any child, but it would so cruel for her to have a daily reminder of this man. My housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, is like a mother to us. She finally sent me away. I - my anxiety and guilt were making the atmosphere oppressive. She felt it would do only good if I came to Bingley for a while."

He paused again, took a deep, shuddering breath and then continued. "The letter says that it, a child, apparently was there, but has now been lost. Mrs. Reynolds tells me that it was painful and Georgiana – lost much blood. However, the doctor and the midwife seem sure she will recover. What they found though…" His voice broke and once again he was robbed of speech. He closed his eyes momentarily and began to speak again as he opened them. "Oh, Miss Elizabeth. They believe she may have the French Disease."


	2. Chapter 2

**History Notes: **The French disease is better known to us as syphilis.

Syphilis got its name from a poem. Around 1530 Girolamo Fracastoro's imagination conjured a shepherd who offended the Sun God by worshipping other deities. He was punished by being inflicted with the disease. The shepherd's name was Syphilis.

There are academic arguments about how it came to Europe. It seems most likely that Columbus and his sailors brought it back with them when they returned from the New World.

There is a very nice passage on the spread of the disease in Voltaire's Candide:

_"O my dear Candide, you remember Pacquette, that pretty maid, who waited on our noble Baroness. In her arms I tasted the pleasures of paradise, and they produced these torments of hell which are now destroying me. She was infected with a disease and perhaps has since died of it. She had received this present from a learned Franciscan, who had derived it from its source: He was indebted for it to an old countess, who had it from a captain of the cavalry, who had it from a marquise, who had it from a page. The page had it from a Jesuit, who, during his novitiate, had received it in a direct line from one of the fellow adventurers of Christopher Columbus. For my part I shall give it to no one, because I am dying." (_I did not remember the quote from Canidide, I found it here_: _http: / www2 .hu-berlin .de /sexology /ECE4 /html /a_lesson_in_epidemiology_1 .html )

The timing of the first waves of this particularly virulent disease coincides well with Columbus's return from his first voyage. It is hypothesized that Columbus' sailors gave it to Spanish port prostitutes who in turn gave it to mercenary soldiers to spread around. However that part went, while Charles VIII of France was invading the Kingdom of Naples in 1495, his soldiers came down with the disease. From that point on, the spread was rapid.

The French called it the Neapolitan disease. The Russians called it the Polish disease. The Turks called it the Christian disease. However, the French must have been the most effective at spreading it because the name that stuck was the French disease.

**References note: **Information on this subject is readily available and the same things are repeated in dozens of books and articles. I did not really feel a need footnote any one source, other than the reference where I found the Candide quote. If you want more references, just let me know on the comments thread.

**Chapter 2**

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**November 17, 1811**

Elizabeth sank gratefully into her bed and immediately blew out the candle. She must appear to be asleep. Jane had been hinting all evening that she wanted to converse privately. However, this was no time to listen to her shy sister gushing over Mr. Bingley. No. Elizabeth had too much to think about. Jane was temporarily on her own.

How Elizabeth had managed to make it through the day, she knew not_. I actually accepted him!_ When she had opened her mouth to ask for time, at least a night to think over such a momentous decision, 'Yes. I will marry you.' had come out instead_. At least I tried to discourage him at first!_

Indeed, Elizabeth had used all sorts of arguments to talk him out of his proposal.

Her station in life HE had defended. He was a gentleman. She was a gentleman's daughter. They were equals_. And what of my mother?_ _I do not even know her name, only that she was a gentlewoman who died when I was born. "That is enough. Even if you did not know that much, it would change nothing."_

The behavior of Mrs. Bennet and Elizabeth's younger sisters was distressing to him, but would not sway him against her. Even if they caused some gossip, he would not worry. The Ton might be vicious. It would be about Georgiana's marriage. However, the Darcy name was powerful. In time the Ton would curry favour as always. Additionally, it mattered not. He had always cared for only two things, his sister's future and honoring his forefathers. Georgiana's future was irrevocably changed. Honoring his ancestors meant choosing a mistress for Pemberley who would care for its history and its dependents. Elizabeth blushed in the dark as she recalled how he had praised her at that point. How had she been so blind? How had she missed that he thought so very highly of her? _He must be blinded by love. He loves me! _ He had not said it, but it must be true.

That thought led Elizabeth to remember her only argument that had given him pause.

SSSSSSSSS_

"_But, sir. We do not love each other." Even as she said it, Elizabeth realized that for her part, it may not be true. It was possible that she had already started to love this strange man. _

_After a quiet minute or two, he had stopped pacing and turned to her. He gently tilted her chin until she looked into his eyes._

"_Can you love me?"_

_She was drowning in those hazel orbs. He came closer and closer. Her eyes drifted closed as his lips tenderly played across hers._

_He drew back and waited until she opened her eyes. "Can you love me?"_

_Elizabeth could only nod._

"_Will you marry me?"_

"_Yes," she whispered. "I will marry you."_

SSSSSSSSSSSS_

But Elizabeth's thoughts could not dwell for long on this memory, no matter how tender her feelings. No. The horror of Miss Darcy's situation swept over her. _She is not Miss Darcy. She is married. Mrs. Wickham. I cannot call her that! She should not have that vile man's name. I will think of her as Miss Darcy!_

Perhaps it spoke to an education that was a little too broad for a genteel lady, but Elizabeth had known what Mr. Darcy meant when he said 'French disease.' _But I do not know enough!_ Not for the first time in her life, Elizabeth felt the unfairness of being a woman. _Poor Miss Darcy._ Elizabeth was sure that the young girl had known nothing of such a disease and probably known nothing of the marital bed before the elopement. Yes. It was true that Elizabeth's knowledge of these things was sketchy at best, but at least she had some. _Poor, ignorant child. Tricked by a practiced deceiver and left in so terrible a situation. And poor Mr. Darcy! What will happen to him if she does not survive? _Elizabeth shuddered remembering what she had read about the mercury.

She turned onto her side and adjusted her pillow. She must put it all from her mind for now and try to sleep. Mr. Darcy would come tomorrow morning to see her father.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

**Meryton, Hertfordshire**

**November 18, 1811**

The general opinion of Mr. Darcy was certainly not improved on this morning. He rode very slowly through Meryton, following Thompson's directions on how to reach Longbourn. Sitting tall in his saddle, his public face firmly in place, he appeared to look around now and then, but he did not see. He was lost in his thoughts. He failed to notice that he slighted several people.

Goulding and Philips paused their conversation to greet the man. Darcy merely rode by. The two gentlemen acknowledged the insult by raising their eyebrows at each other, shrugging, and then forgetting it. They returned to their business.

Lady Lucas and Charlotte both blushed bright red. It was an affront and they felt it.

But to Colonel Forster, the Regimental Commander, it felt like a slap. He had been speaking with three of his officers. _That arrogant bastard just cut me in public! In front of my men!_ How Forster wished he could go after Darcy and call him out.

Darcy noticed none of it. He rode slowly on.

As he came to Longbourn village, his senses sharpened. Here he did look around. This village would be a measure of Mr. Bennet. Not that Darcy worried about being refused. A country gentleman would not dare to do that. Still, it wise to learn something of Elizabeth's father. The village was not large. The cottages were well-kept. The roofs looked solid for the coming winter. The green was broad and treed. Darcy nodded his head in greeting to the villagers he passed.

In a moment, he was riding through Longbourn's gate and shortly the house came into view. It was much larger than he had expected, nearly the size of Netherfield. It appeared to be an older building that had been expanded by a modern wing on each side. It was well enough done and pleasing to the eye. _The Master of Longbourn_ _must be more wealthy than Miss Bingley has implied. I should not be surprised. The way that the eldest two Misses Bennet behave, the way they dress – I should have expected this. I should know never to listen to Caroline Bingley._

His new opinion was reinforced as he noticed how well cared for the house was too, how a stable boy was immediately there to take his horse, and how a proper butler greeted him at the door.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

Elizabeth had never been so nervous. There were raised voices in her father's study. What was happening? Was Mr. Darcy being refused? She tried to calm herself by moving to the morning room and then the drawing room. It was no good. She found herself once again pacing the hall.

_Enough of this!_ It involved her and she would have her say. She had just again turned toward the study, intending to knock and enter, when the door opened. Suddenly a pale Mr. Darcy came out, closing the door behind him.

"He has refused you." Elizabeth's voice was a whisper.

Darcy nodded. "I am to immediately leave and never return to Longbourn."

"But why?"

"He would not say."

They stared at each other for a few moments, neither knowing what to say. Hearing a noise from the study, Darcy took Elizabeth's arm and steered her toward the front the door.

"We may have only moments. Can we meet somewhere? He may not let you escape today."

"Tomorrow just after dawn. There is some heavy shrubbery on one side of our park. Wait just beyond it, away from the house."

"I will find it."

The butler was frowning at them. Then, Mr. Bennet's voice was heard, commanding someone to find Elizabeth. Using his broad frame to block his actions from view, Darcy gave a small squeeze to Elizabeth's hand and disappeared out the door.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

"Elizabeth, you are never to see that man again."

When Elizabeth started to speak, Mr. Bennet raised his hand to stop her. "I will not discuss it and you will obey me. You are to spend the day in your rooms. Now go."

Elizabeth stared in disbelief at her father. Never had he spoken thus to her. She was the favorite; indulged, pampered and even treated as an equal.

Mr. Bennet had returned to his desk and now sat in his chair. He looked up at his daughter frozen in the doorway. "I said go!"

She did.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

Mr. and Mrs. Hill stood in the hall. One looking toward the stairway up which Elizabeth had just disappeared and the other looking at the front door out of which Mr. Darcy had gone minutes before.

"Should I write to London?"

"And say what my dear? We could not hear their words. We do not know what just went on here. Let us wait a few days to see. It may be nothing. If it is important, perhaps Miss Elizabeth will confide in Akers."

Mr. Hill harrumphed. "What good would that do? Akers will not tell her secrets."

"If she thought Miss Elizabeth in real need, I think she might."

"You are right, Mrs. Hill. As always you are right. We will wait."

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

Bennet's eyes remained on the empty doorway for some time before he rose, closed the door and locked it. Picking up his hidden key, he unlocked a drawer of his desk and pulled out a little treasure box. Then he undid and took off his neck cloth. Reaching under his shirt, he caught the edge of a chain and pulled it over his head. Using the key on the end of it, he opened the box. Right on top was the miniature.

_So alike they are. The beautiful hair. Those green eyes. Perhaps I was too rough. _ No. It had to be done. He had another year with Elizabeth and he was not going to give it up. She may be angry for now, but she would soon forget such an arrogant man.

_It would have been a good match for her and it was not my decision to make_. Thomas shook those thoughts away. No one need know for a long time, at least until it no longer mattered, that this proposal had been made. Elizabeth would eventually forgive him.

Calmer now, he locked the portrait away. After retying his cravat and unlocking the door, he settled down with Hume.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

Dinner was not nearly as amusing as Mr. Bennet had anticipated. Even his pleasure from surprising Mrs. Bennet with the imminent arrival of the hated heir had been lost. Darcy had taken it away when he appeared so soon after breakfast. Bennet's anger at Darcy increased.

Now Collins sat at the table. He was even more ridiculous than his letter had portended. But Bennet did not have his favorite child here. Without Elizabeth to share it with, the joke of Mr. Collins' conversation wore thin very quickly.

As soon as possible, Bennet rose to go to his study, ordering Collins to stay behind and enjoy the ladies' company. _Let Fannie deal with him. Perhaps the fool will even marry one of her silly daughters. Then I will not have to hear her moan about hedgerows._

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**November 19, 1811**

Elizabeth slipped from the house as quietly as she could. She walked quickly. As soon as she rounded the final row of shrubs, she saw him.

"Are you cold? I hope you have not been waiting long."

Darcy felt warmth flow through him just at the sight of her. Maybe he had been cold but he felt none of it now.

"I am well." He held out his hand. His eyes seemed on fire.

Blushing, she cast her eyes down but she still moved forward to take his glove.

"What did your Father tell you?"

"Nothing. I was sent to my room for the day. I was ordered never to see you again."

"Yet you are here."

She raised her eyes to meet his. "I am here."

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**November 19, 1811**

Fannie Bennet looked hard at Elizabeth. Fannie had never liked this child. Even as an infant, the girl had been trouble. Crying all night. Mr. Bennet had even left Fannie's bed to walk the girl and quieten her_. The master of an estate walking an infant! She should have been sent to the village until she was older. He would not even let me dismiss that worthless wet nurse._ _I was his new wife and he left my bed! _Jane had never been any trouble. Fannie easily loved that sweet little girl. _But the other one!_

_And now, this._ Not only had Elizabeth missed dinner last night, the uppity Miss was refusing to walk into Meryton with her sisters and Mr. Collins.

Heaven only knew why, but when Mrs. Bennet had informed Collins that Jane was not available, the man's interest had gone to Elizabeth. _He only saw her for a few minutes at breakfast!_ Well, there was no accounting for tastes, especially the tastes of a man. Fannie had intended him for Mary or Kitty. She did not want to grow old with Elizabeth for company. _It is better than not having Longbourn_. There was no arguing with that.

"Now you listen to me. You will accompany Mr. Collins into Meryton."

"Thank you, Mother. However, I am unequal to the walk this morning."

"Since when are you unequal to a walk? I insist that you go."

"With all due respect madam, I cannot oblige you. Shall we ask Father's opinion on the subject?"

Fanny was livid. Mr. Bennet always took Elizabeth's side.

"Very well. However, you will attend us at dinner and in the drawing room after. You will pay special attention to Mr. Collins. Do you understand me?"

"Yes Mother. I understand you very well."

Fanny turned and went out to the waiting party. She would tell them that an obligation held Elizabeth at home. With her missing dinner yesterday, Fannie could not take the chance of Mr. Collins thinking his future wife was sickly. _Well, that might not be so bad. Maybe then he would choose Mary or Kitty. No. No use taking chances_.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

As it turned out, Elizabeth did not leave her rooms for the rest of the day. She and Akers had much to discuss.

When the party returned from their walk to Meryton, Elizabeth was not there to hear her youngest sisters swooning over the handsome Mr. Wickham.

Elizabeth left her rooms the following day only to meet Mr. Darcy at dawn.

No matter how much Mrs. Bennet pleaded, Mr. Bennet would not make his favorite child venture forth, not even to attend the Philips' party.

When the Bennets returned to Longbourn that evening, Elizabeth was not there to hear them cursing the evil Mr. Darcy. Only a monster could have been so cruel to such a fine officer as Mr. Wickham.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**November 21, 1811**

Mr. Darcy, after seeing Elizabeth again, tried to call on Mr. Bennet. Darcy was turned away.

Elizabeth tried once more to speak with her father. She was turned away.

They had a little time to work on Mr. Bennet, but not very much. Georgina's doctor had said that she should be able to travel in little more than three weeks.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

**Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire**

**November 24, 1811**

Caroline Bingley sat in the drawing room with only her sister for company. Her fists were balled tightly in lap. _On, this is not to be borne!_ How was she to capture Mr. Darcy if she never saw him? Since the departure of those Bennet chits, he had all but disappeared_. Sometimes he does not even dine with me!_

Her furious musings were interrupted by a loud rap on the door. _Another messenger for Mr. Darcy, no doubt._ What was he doing with all those messengers coming and going at all hours? He was a gentleman. What business could he possibly have that was so urgent, that kept him from paying proper due to his hostesss? _And it is Sunday! The rain is pouring!_

Caroline's anger got the best of her. All her plans, all her careful attention to his every need, all her hard work at proving she thought him a man without fault, all of it fell by the wayside. Suddenly all she could see was another mess in her hall. And it was all the responsiblity of Mr. Darcy.

Marching out to the vestibule, Caroline saw what she expected, another drowned rat.

"Out! Out now! Go around the house! Use the rear door! What do you think you are doing, imposing on my entrance? Out!"

The very wet man looked intently at Miss Bingley and then turned his eyes to an embarrassed Nicholls. Taking his hat back from the butler, the man said "It is alright. I will walk around back. Would you please let Mr. Darcy know where I am."

"Sir, please take this umbrella."

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

"Woolridge. Forgive me my good man. You travel for me on a Sunday, in such wretched weather, and my hostess throws you out in the storm again."

Nicholls stood a little behind Darcy. The butler had wasted no time in going to find Darcy and telling him what had become of his man. Both men had quickly made for the kitchens and found Cook and the good Mrs. Nicholls helping poor Woolridge out of his wet coat.

"Mrs. Nicholls, is there a room for Mr. Woolridge? Can we get him a warm bath?"

"Of course, Mr. Darcy, sir." Mrs. Nicholls liked this serious young man. The neighborhood thought little of him, but he had always treated all the servants with respect and he was never any trouble. Well, except for the mess all these wet people caused coming and going. Even then, Mr. Darcy never forgot to thank the servants who helped and they always received some welcome coins.

Now, perhaps this new man was more than a messenger. It would be embarrassing to ask his status. Nicholls would give him a guest room. She never thought about asking Miss Bingley's permission. Anything that was for Mr. Darcy was to be done at once. Miss Bingley must have told all the servants that at least a hundred times. "I'll send Maggie up with the first of the warm water and to start a fire, sir. Mr. Woolridge, you stay here by the kitchen fire until all is ready."

"I'll go find Thompson. You will need something dry to wear. You look soaked. Did the storm do all this between the carriage and the door?"

"It is alright, Mr. Darcy. I had to help dislodge a wheel from the mud. I have dry clothing in my bag." Woolridge looked over at the kindly Mrs. Nicholls. "But mam, when my driver Perkins gets in from the stables, he will be a right messs."

"Don't you worry, sir. We will take care of him."

Darcy noted with pleasure that Mrs. Nicholls was handing Woolridge a mug of warm tea. He shook hands with Woolridge. "I cannot thank you enough for coming today. I will be in my rooms when you are ready. Anyone can direct you. Mrs. Nicholls, you are an angel."

Darcy kissed the old woman's hand. She blushed bright red.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

Later, by the toasty fire in Mr. Darcy's rooms, their stomachs full and brandies in hand, Darcy and Woolridge went over the state of all the plans. Everything was in place.

Reaching into his satchel, Woolridge withdrew a stack of papers. "Here is the settlement, sir. It is all as you ordered. However, if after you read it over you want any changes, I can do them tonight."

Darcy set the papers aside, thanking Woolridge. However, he still looked anxiously at his man.

"I did not forget, sir." Woolridge drew out two jewelry bags from his pocket. "Fresh from your safe. I am fairly certain they are the ones you wanted. Your drawings of them were actually quite good."

Mr. Darcy raised his eyebrow at the unusual tease from Woolridge. However, when he opened the bags and let the stones flow into his hand, his face broke into a broad smile.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**November 25, 1811**

Elizabeth watched the steady rain. Four days it had been. Four days of heavy rain. Four days without Mr. Darcy. At least it was not so stormy today. Maybe it would clear for the ball tomorrow.

Elizabeth had managed to talk to her father. Twice. He was unmoved and would not discuss his reasons.

"_Father, will you not speak to him again? His sister is ill and he must away soon."_

"_All the better Elizabeth. You will not marry that man."_

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**November 27, 1811**

Elizabeth's door flew open.

"Wake up child!"

"Mother, what is it?"

"Call for a bath. See that Akers dresses you well. Mr. Collins will want a private audience with you this morning. I am sure of it. Wear your yellow muslin. Hurry. You must be downstairs waiting for him. I am back to bed. I must get more sleep."

With that, Mrs. Bennet was gone. Elizabeth moaned. She had done her best to discourage Collins. _Well, I will not avoid that scene._

Her mind could spare no more thoughts for Collins or Fannie. Elizabeth did need to get dressed. She had an early morning meeting with Mr. Darcy. _If, after last night, he still comes._

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

**Edward Street, London**

**November 27, 1811**

George Wickham winced as he tried to use the chamber pot. _This bloody new pox does not go away._ The old one, so many years before, had finally disappeared. George had been sure that bedding Georgiana would have cleared this new one up.

He winced a little remembering her tears. He had not meant to be so cruel to her. It was Darcy bursting in with all that haughty indignation that had set Wickham off. He struck out but he had intended to wound Darcy, not Georgiana. Wickham had always had a soft spot for little Georgie. He was sorry she had heard all that.

Anger soon burst forth. It is not my fault she was hurt_. If her brother had been respectful, she would not have been. _Darcy was to blame for Georgiana's pain.

Amusement at the situation in Hertfordshire soon took over Wickham's mood. He chuckeled, not believing his good fortune. He had been right under Darcy's nose for a full week. The arrogant bastard did not even know! _Too high and mighty for the locals, are you not?_ Even better, Darcy had somehow made himself hated before Wickham arrived. His tales of woe had fallen on very receptive ears. Meryton held much promise.

A momentary fear hit Wickham. _Not if Darcy lets it be known that I am married! _Then there will be no more money from the spoiled militia officers and no chance with the local wenches. The fear disappeared as quickly as it had come. Darcy was too protective of Georgiana. He would not speak of it, especially if he did not know Wickham was there. Wickham was sure.

It wasn't just safe to go back, it was wise. Richard Fitzwilliam was the really dangerous one. He would never think to look in a place where Darcy resided. Wickham would just have to stay out of Darcy's sight.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**November 27, 1811**

He was there. _He has not changed his mind. Even after my family's performance at the ball last night, he has not changed his mind. _

Darcy's face broke into a wide smile as soon as he saw her. He gathered Elizabeth's hands into his. While seeing Elizabeth last night, dancing with her, had been a balm to his soul, Mr. Bennet had hovered always nearby. Darcy and Elizabeth had been unable to have more than one or two private words.

"Your father, has he relented?"

She shook her head.

"Then, if you have not changed your mind..." He was so nervous. "The moon is still full. Tonight we are for Scotland?"

Suddenly shy, she looked down, but nodded.

Darcy could feel her hesitancy. It was more than understandable. No one as kind, loyal and loving as Elizabeth would relish going against her family. He put his hand on her cheek. "If it helps, I will cherish you. I will do all I can to heal the breach." _Although I would prefer never to see those Bennets again._

Looking up and into his eyes, she nodded. "Will you try once more, this morning?"

"Yes, love. I will go to your father again. I have little hope, but I will do my best. For now, I must go and take care of a few things." He smiled. "Just in case I am refused once more."

Then, he was not smiling. He slowly leaned down to her. Then, his lips were on hers, moving, claiming. Before she could collapse into his arms, he stepped back. He held onto her shoulders to keep her steady.

"Have you come up with a way to give us a head start?" Darcy's voice was husky.

A small smile formed on Elizabeth's face. "Akers figured it out. The post for London leaves at two. We will board in full view of those in town. Then, we stop in Saint Albans, the Black Lion. Can you meet us there?"

He winced. "Must it be the post?"

Elizabeth laughed; a clean, clear, happy laugh. "I told Akers you would object. I am afraid it must be the post. If we take a Longbourn carriage and driver, it will be quickly known that we did not go to London. If your carriage takes us, the town will know we disappeared at the same time. No. The only way is for me to appear headed to my uncle. You must be seen leaving much earlier. It will buy us at least a day, probably two or three."

He was frowning, but he finally nodded. "I will already be in my travelling coach when I call on your father." Darcy saw no reason to tell her that he would set two men to discreetly follow the post coach. No. Better. He would put a man inside to travel with them, an armed man.

"I will leave a note that I am gone to the Gardiners. It will easily be believed. Not only will Father's refusal of you be seen as reason by him, but I…"

"What is it?" His voice was gentle.

"I have reason to believe that Mr. Collins will offer for me this morning."

Darcy looked stricken and Elizabeth, smiling, reached up to caress his jaw.

"It is not so bad, sir. My mother will be very distraught by my refusal. The rest of house will be sure that I have flown to London to avoid her anger."

He visibly relaxed and allowed a grin. "Very well. If your father surprises us and gives his approval, we will celebrate at Longbourn tonight. If not, I will be waiting at the Black Lion with our travelling coach." Suddenly he frowned. "Clothing. How will you manage until we can buy more?"

Elizabeth laughed again. "Now you think of this! Do not forget we have Akers and Thompson. She assures me that it is taken care of. I am sure some of my items are already in your trunks."

Darcy at first bristled at being laughed at. But she was so charming, he could not take real offense. He did not resist his next impulse and pulled her back into his arms.

Long minutes later, he stopped their kisses. His conscience was roaring. Leaning his forehead against hers, he whispered, "I am so selfish, asking this of you. But you must know by now. Elizabeth, I – I love you. Please, if you cannot stand this breach, I will – I will let you go." There. He had managed to say it. He awaited his doom.

She reached up to touch the face that now looked so haughty and disdainful. He was hiding, hiding from the pain he was expecting her to deliver. She gently cupped his jaw with her hand and waited for his eyes to meet her own.

"Mr. Darcy, Fitzwilliam. It is too late for that. Thank you, but I believe you now have my heart. I belong with you and your sister."

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

Later, as they arrived at the place where he must leave her for now, he reached for her hands. "Thank you. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for what you will do for Georgiana. Try not to worry. All will eventually be well with your family, even if I have to work for years to make it so."

Darcy gave a lingering kiss to her hand, mounted his horse and turned to go. Suddenly he stopped and looked back at her.

"Elizabeth, your sister Jane, does she care for Bingley?"

Elizabeth searched his eyes, remembering their cold hardness at the ball last night. "Yes, Fitzwilliam. She is much in love. I have never before seen her so."

He nodded and rode away.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

**Netherfield Park, Hertfordshire**

**November 27, 1811**

_Blast!_ Darcy could not believe it. Bingley, who never rose before nine, was already gone.

_What if he does not return? What if I am responsible for breaking the heart of Elizabeth's most beloved sister? Oh, that I had not spoken last night!_

The Bennets had been the last to leave. As soon as they were gone, Caroline had rounded on her brother.

"_Charles! You cannot be serious. That family is in every way ridiculous. We will be shunned."_

_Louisa joined in. Darcy turned his back to the room and stopped listening. Hearing Caroline and Louisa voicing the very thoughts that had been his own was unnerving. It was Bingley's voice that brought him back to his hosts._

"_Darcy! Surely you do not agree with that! It cannot be."_

"_Forgive me, Bingley. I was not listening to your family conversation."_

"_Of course Mr. Darcy agrees. Jane Bennet is a sweet girl but she is not in love with you. She will marry you because her mother tells her to do so."_

"_Darcy?"_

_Bingley's earnest face looked at Darcy. He had been shocked during the ball to discover that the whole neighborhood expected Bingley to marry Jane Bennet. Wrapped up in his own affairs, Darcy had completely missed what was happening with Bingley. Watching Jane Bennet as much as possible for the rest of evening, Darcy had not seen a besotted girl. There was no way that he could withhold that truth. _

"_Bingley, she clearly takes pleasure in your company. However, I did not see any symptoms of peculiar regard."_

_Charles became pale and visibly smaller. His voice was defeated when he spoke. "I am for London early. I will see you in a few days." _

Footmen coming to carry out Darcy's trunks brought his attention back to the present. He had complete faith in Elizabeth's words. Jane Bennet must be one who kept her feelings hidden. Well, there was nothing to be done for now. He would speak to Charles as soon as he could. Given the circumstances, Darcy knew that it might be weeks before he met Charles again.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**November 28, 1811**

Thomas Bennet poured himself a brandy. Rarely did he indulge in anything stronger than port, but after the last day and a half, a celebration was in order.

Yesterday was one of the most entertaining days he had ever had. He did not know which had brought him more pleasure, the buffoon Collins with his ridiculous proposal or the proud Darcy as Thomas refused him once again.

Remembering Fannie's screeches over the loss of Collins gave Thomas another smile.

However, his enjoyment of that delightful day had been tempered with his worries about Jane.

Thomas had actually lost a little sleep after the Netherfield ball. As much as he was distracted by enjoying the foolishness of Fannie and the younger girls, he had not been blind to Jane. Though she was no blood of his own, Thomas was very fond to the girl. Who could not love and protect such a gentle, sweet creature? And now, she was attached to that young Mr. Bingley. Thomas knew he should have interfered earlier. There was no way that Jane would be allowed to wed the son of a tradesman. If Elizabeth had not made so much trouble, Thomas would have spent less time in his study. He would have been able to stop Jane's romance before her heart was touched. _Well, maybe not. I would have been in my study regardless. This is not the fault of Elizabeth._ For perhaps the first time, Thomas had wallowed, just a little, in bitterness at his own indolence.

Then, this morning, a reprieve! A note from Miss Bingley arrived. It informed them that the whole party had left Netherfield with no intention of returning. The note provided an immediate balm for Thomas' conscience. Jane's broken heart could be laid at Bingley's door. Thomas would bear no share of the guilt.

Elizabeth's flight to the Gardiners was also welcome. Arrogant Mr. Darcy would never venture into that part of Town. Just to be sure that Elizabeth was now safe, Thomas had sent off a letter to his brother, commanding that Darcy not be allowed into the Gardiner's home.

Most relaxing of all, Elizabeth's absence from Longbourn let Thomas be safe from her silences and her recriminations.

Taking a sip of his fine French brandy, he smiled.

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

Two days later, he was not smiling.

An express arrived from Gardiner. Elizabeth had not come to them. In a moment Thomas knew what had occurred.

_I must send a letter to the Duke._ Thomas reached for pen and paper, but stopped. _No. I can wait a few days for such an unpleasant task. They must be in Scotland, or at least nearly there by now. There is nothing the Duke can do now anyway._

Grimacing, Thomas thought of what the letter to the Duke would bring about. _He will bring Jane's other relations into play._

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**

**Sion Hill, London**

**December 4, 1811**

"Your Lordship, His Grace the Duke of Leeds is here to see you."

Holderness would have been less surprised had his man told him that Napoleon had come to call. However, the earl's Darcy blood ran true and his face showed none of his shock.

"You put him in the Blue Parlour?"

The butler nodded.

"Very well."

Holderness rose and moved from behind his desk. _These bones ache worse every day_. Wincing, he made his way to greet his august guest. After all, a duke was a duke.

The greetings had been perfectly correct and all the civilities followed. Leeds indicated the need for privacy, so the men returned to Holderness' study. They now sat in comfortable chairs near the fire. While Holderness had wanted to place the man in the subservient position of a guest chair at the desk, he had overcome this little desire to needle Leeds. After all, this was the first time that an Osborne had called on a Darcy in more than thirty years.

"Alright Leeds. To what do I owe the honor of this call?"

"Your cousin has run off with my ward."

_Good grief! _Had Holderness been a lesser man, he would have moaned. _Another Darcy involving the Osbornes in scandal._ Whichever Darcy it was, Holderness was going to skin him or her alive. The Ton had a long memory and all the old scandal would be brought once more to the fore.

"Forgive me, Your Grace. But, which of OUR cousins has run off with which of YOUR wards?"

Leeds fumed at the use of the word 'our,' but could not deny its truth. As much as he wished it was not so, the duke was half Darcy.

"Very well. OUR Pemberley cousin has run off with OUR ward."

_Our ward?_ There was only one ward that the two men held in common. This time Holderness did moan. "Not Elizabeth?"

"Yes, Grandfather. Fitzwilliam has eloped with Elizabeth."

**SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS_**


	3. Chapter 3

This is very mature. Someone please pm me and let me know if it is over the line for FFN. Last story I did here, I edited out overt sexual content. I can do that again if it is proper for this site. Please let me know.

FeliciaHM & Buzzy, you are the best.

Here are a couple of partial family 'trees.' (Sorry. I could not get the 'tree' part to work for posting so you get them this way.)

**HOLDERNESS**

**Robert Darcy, 4th Earl of Holderness**

b. May 17, 1718

d. **fictitiously** still alive in 1811

/

/

**Married** Oct. 29, 1743 to:

/

/

**Mary Doublet**

b. circa 1721

d. Oct 13, 1801

/

/

**Issue of Robert Darcy and Mary Doublet**

Lord George Darcy

b. Sep. 1745

d. Sep. 27, 1747

/

/

Lord Thomas Darcy

b. 1750

d. 1750

/

/

Lady Amelia Darcy

b. Oct. 12, 1754

d. Jan. 26, 1784

Married (1) Nov. 29, 1773 to:

Francis Godolphin Osborne, 5th Duke of Leeds

Married (2) June 1, 1779 to:

Captain John 'Mad Jack' Byron

/

/

/

/

**LEEDS**

**Francis Godolphin Osborne**

**5th Duke of Leeds**

b. Jan. 19, 1750/51

d. Jan. 31, 1799

/

/

**m(1) **Nov. 29, 1773 to and divorced May, 1779 from:

/

/

**Lady Amelia Darcy**

b. Oct. 12, 1754

d. Jan. 26, 1784

/

/

**Issue of Francis Osborne and Lady Amelia Darcy:**

Lady Elizabeth Amelia Osborne

**A Fictitious Character **

b. Aug. 28, 1774

d. Sept. 10, 1791

/

/

George William Frederick Osborne, 6th Duke of Leeds

b. July 21, 1775

d. July 10, 1838

/

/

Lady Mary Henrietta Juliana Osborne

b. Sep. 7, 1776

d. Oct. 21, 1862

/

/

Francis Godolphin Osborne, 1st Baron Godolphin

b. Oct. 18, 1777

d. Feb. 15, 1850

/

/

**History Notes: **Lots of thanks to

The real Robert Darcy, 4th Earl of Holderness, was an interesting man. He very much served his King and was well trusted. He was the man that the King chose to be governor to the precious male heirs to the throne.

Robert Darcy actually died in 1778. I give him a much longer life so he can still be around as our story begins. He would have been a very old man. No wonder his bones ached.

It was truly a day to make note of when the real Robert Darcy died. Of _all_ the direct male descendants of _all_ the knights who came to England with William the Conqueror, _the last one left_ with a title was Robert Darcy. When his life came to a close, so did a centuries long part of history. (Hume, David; History of England, Volume 1; Philadelphia; McCarty & Davis; 1832; p. 240; available free at Google books online.)

Robert Darcy had only one child who survived into adulthood, Lady Amelia Darcy. In 1773, she married Francis Osborne, who would become the 5th Duke of Leeds. By 1777, they had three small children. (For purposes of this fiction, I give them four children. The oldest being the fictitious Elizabeth Amelia Osborne.)

And so, there was a great and quickly very fruitful match between the houses of Holderness and Leeds, between the Darcys and the Osbornes.

Then, in 1778, the unthinkable happened. Abandoning her husband and her small children, Amelia ran off with a lover….

/

/

**Chapter 3 **

**St. James Square, London**

**June 2, 1778**

Amelia Osborne, nee Darcy, was an enchanting thing. Despite her Darcy blood, she was tiny. Birthing children had only added to her curvaceousness. She had always been beautiful, vivacious, charming and a little bit wild. But now, she was increasingly discontent.

She had not wanted to marry Francis Osborne. He was stuffy, staid and thought much too highly of his own mind. Amelia had not been impressed. Worst of all, she had not felt any thrill at being near him.

At first the marriage bed had been something that Amelia enjoyed. All that skin and the suckling on her ample bosom had been nice indeed. But she did not think that she enjoyed the pleasures that other women giggled about, especially when they talked of their lovers. She had never gotten that experience of utter bliss that made some of the wives' eyes glaze over as they alluded to it. Francis had certainly never kissed her, well, in _that_ place that the others smirked about.

So little Amelia Osborne, now 24 years old, was ripe for _him_ when he walked into the room.

He was breathtaking. She was light-headed just looking at him. Those shoulders, those thighs. What did he look like without his clothes? How would _that_ skin feel?

Captain John Byron, known as 'Mad Jack' for his outrageous ways, was also lost. That little pixie just generated heat. He could feel it. He could almost taste it. A definite man of the world, he knew how this animal attraction could end. He had only been this strongly pulled at a few times and every one of them lead to heaven, at least for a little while.

When he leaned in very close, whispering in her ear just after they had been introduced, Amelia thought she might faint.

It only took him a week to get her alone. It was an explosion. The affair was torrid and not just public, it was flaunted. Neither Amelia nor Mad Jack could get enough.

When he found out that she had money of her own, Amelia's fate was sealed. In love and dazed, she was easy prey.

They ran away together. In May of 1779, Leeds obtained a divorce from Amelia. Within a month Mad Jack and Amelia married. A month after that she gave birth to a daughter who did not long survive.

Mad Jack could spend much more that Amelia's four thousand a year. Deeply in debt, the couple fled to France. Amelia died there birthing another daughter in early 1784.

/

/

Francis Osborne was embarrassed and insulted. He may have to deal with Robert Darcy from time to time, but he never had to call on those bloody Darcys again.

/

/

**Black Bull Inn, Yorkshire**

**November 29, 1811**

All sighed in relief as they stopped for a few hours rest. It was much needed. The drivers and riders really must get some sleep. The party had spent a few hours at an inn every night. It had been enough for them all to keep going, but never enough.

Elizabeth had fallen more in love as she saw her soon-to-be husband making sure that his people were well cared for. He was always more concerned for them and for Elizabeth than he was for himself.

This made her feel even more certain that she was doing the right thing. She was marrying a good man. However, this surety did nothing to alleviate her growing anxiety. She was about to face the marriage bed.

Oh, she knew a little. She was fairly certain that she understood what would happen. But, she was still afraid. She had always thought that she would have the opportunity to have any questions she had answered by her beloved Aunt Gardiner. Now, here she was. On her own. Akers, as it had turned out, knew even less than Elizabeth. Elizabeth was excited and curious, to be sure. Every touch of Darcy's was like fire. If not for her father's words, Elizabeth was certain she would have been only looking forward to it.

But now, she was worried. It was not just the unknown. It was Mr. Bennet's warning. Was it possible that he had been telling her the truth? Would it hurt as he had warned? _"You should not want to marry anyway child. It is horrible for a woman to submit to those base desires of a man. I cannot bear to think of you in such pain."_

That was so opposed to what Elizabeth had thought. Could her father be truthful in this? Was he just trying to scare her out of marrying Fitzwilliam? Why? Why? Why?

It did not matter. She could not help it. As the miles on the road speed by, she became more afraid.

/

/

Darcy was a very worried man. Not about the trip. They were making very good time. It would be hard to catch up with them, even if their flight had already been discovered. Yes. They could be easily traced. There was great noise and uproar caused by their party with so many changes of horse and such late arrivals and early departures from inns. But they had a good head start and were travelling quickly. No, what Darcy was worried about was that Elizabeth had changed her mind.

She had grown progressively more quiet. For the last part of today's journey, she had not even met his eyes. Even while eating this evening, her face was serious and almost always turned down at her plate. Something was very wrong.

He paced. He stared into the fire. He lay on the bed, open eyes unseeing. The longer Darcy thought about it, the more sure he was. She no longer wished to marry him. At least she did not wish to do so in defiance of her father.

He would never force her to this marriage. Akers and Thompson had been present at all times in their coach. Elizabeth's reputation would be salvageable if Darcy could think of some good reason for her to be in his coach. _Elizabeth going to help an ill Georgiana?_ Surely that would not work. They had no prior connection at all, let alone a close one. _Did Elizabeth have relatives somewhere here in the North where he could take her?_ Maybe it could seem that all along he was only escorting her there.

He thought of one unlikely scenario after another. Well, even if what they tried did not work, the worst thing that could happen was that Elizabeth's reputation was tarnished. The solution for that problem would be for them to marry. But, Darcy would try very hard for that not to occur. If what Elizabeth wanted was to be free of this commitment, then he would do all he could to make it so for her.

He would talk to her before they left here in the morning. It was the right thing to do. A very miserable Fitzwilliam Darcy fell into a fitful sleep in the wee hours of the morning.

/

/

"Miss Elizabeth, may I request your company for a short stroll?"

Elizabeth blinked and looked up from her breakfast. His tone was so haughty, stiff and formal. Had Elizabeth not been so distracted by her own fears, she would have recognized at once what was wrong, recognized that Darcy was once again steeling himself against the pain to come.

As it was, she only nodded and then looked away. How could she converse with him about the forbidden subject that was taking her every thought? How could she talk about anything else? She did not notice that she flinched slightly as he touched her when he helped her into her heavy pelisse. She was reacting out of fear. Darcy felt is as proof positive that she no longer wanted him. To make things even worse, she did not take his arm as they exited the inn. Of course, he did not offer it. He was certainly not going to force that on her now.

They strolled away, side by side, neither one speaking.

Finally, Darcy gathered his courage. "Miss Elizabeth, I understand what has been upsetting you."

_You do?_

"You must realize that I would never force you."

_Force me? _

"I understand that it is not what you wish."

_Not what I wish? _Elizabeth's mind flew back to his kisses, his soft lips playing across her skin, his hands splayed on her back, his body pressed against hers, his warm breath in her ear. _Not what I wish? Oh, I am not so sure of that._

"I thought about it all night."

_So did I._

"I thinking of solutions."

_Solutions? What?_

"Do you have any relatives here in the North?"

_Relatives? What has that to do with anything?_ Elizabeth was becoming seriously alarmed. Sudden relief went through her. _Maybe he means someone that I can talk to._

"If you do, we can head straight for them. It might give reasonable excuse for us travelling together. I was on my way to Pemberley and escorted you."

_Escorted me? Heading to Pemberley? What? _

"I think it should work. Of course, if it does not, you will be no worse off than you are now." He paused. "I will – Georgiana and I will be alright. You must not worry." There. That had been hard to say, but he knew he must. Her tender heart would make her marry him. She would think only of him and Georgiana, not of herself.

_What? _"Georgiana? Mr. Darcy, I have not the pleasure of understanding you."

He would not let this conversation veer further to his sister. This was about Elizabeth. "I am trying to tell you, Miss Elizabeth, that we will do all we can to preserve your reputation. I think it will work."

"My reputation? For the wedding night?"

_What? The wedding night?_ Darcy shook his head. "So that you will not appear compromised, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth stuttered. "I, I, I… I am sorry sir. I did not think that a reputation could be ruined by a - wedding night."

"Elizabeth. Of course there will be no wedding night without the wedding."

She stopped and stared at him, full face. A haughty and distant man looked back at her. Suddenly it hit her. _He is calling off the wedding!_ _He does not want to marry me. These days he has been thinking the better of it. He finally realizes I am beneath him. He means to call it off in such a way as to save my reputation. _Her heart was breaking. How was she to let him go? Somehow, she forced herself to speak. "I understand Mr. Darcy. I do see why you have decided that you no longer wish to marry me."

It had come out as a whisper, but he heard it. _No longer wish to marry you?_ "No. No. Of course I wish to marry you. But, Elizabeth, I love you too much. I would not hold you to your promise. I know you no longer want to marry me."

_He thinks I do not want to marry him. That is why he is talking about reputation. Oh, mercy. He thinks that is why I have been so silent. _ Giddy with relief, Elizabeth burst out laughing.

She was laughing at him, again. Affronted, he drew back and stood taller. "I fail to see humor here, Miss Elizabeth."

Tears were flowing and her laughter only got harder. She could see him, though. He was hurt. Somehow she reached out to grab his hands and then changed her mind and threw her arms around him.

He was shocked at first. But it felt so good to have her touch him, even if she was laughing. Slowly, as though with a will of their own, his arms closed around her.

Elizabeth managed to say, through her laughs, "No. No. No." She said it over and over again. Finally she calmed and looked at him. She brought her hands to either side of his head, and pulled his face down while standing on her own toes. She managed to reach his lips and gave him a firm kiss.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam. I am so sorry. I have not been quiet and brooding because I do not wish to marry you."

"You have not?"

"No."

"You wish to marry me?"

"More and more each day."

"Then, why…"

Now she blushed red and tried to pull away.

"Oh no, Elizabeth. You must tell me."

She knew he was right. She must say something now. "I am afraid." Elizabeth had buried her head into his chest and he could not understand her.

"Beg pardon?"

"I am afraid."

"Of me?"

"No. Not exactly. Sort of."

"Elizabeth, please."

"I am afraid of the wedding night."

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back and moaned. _Of course. What an idiot I am! She is afraid. She has no mother here, no woman to guide her or reassure her. _He had never felt such relief_. She wants to marry me!_ His arms tightened around her.

"Oh, Lord. I thought I had lost you."

Many whispered words of affection and devotion passed between them. Darcy's mind finally registered that she must still be afraid. "Here, take my arm. I have something to tell you."

It was Darcy's turn to blush bright red, but he knew he needed calm her fears. "Elizabeth, I am afraid, too."

"You are? But I thought men - That you would already - That is, your station - As a man - I mean - Why are _you_ afraid, sir?"

"You are right that most men of my station have a great experience in – these matters. Mine, however, it not as – extensive – as you might believe. My two cousins are older and they joined forces to make sure I was – indoctrinated. But, a little while later, just when I went to Cambridge, something happened."

He paused and looked off into the distance, but kept walking. "You must remember who I grew up with."

_Mr. Wickham!_ "Him?"

"Yes, _him_. My father got us rooms together to start at Cambridge. That did not last long. Never mind. Almost as soon as we were settled, Wic - _he_ came to me. He was very wild. He was also not at all shy. He showed me… He had a rash and – sores on his – he showed them to me. Boys, men talk about these things. We both knew he had gotten a pox. I wanted him to see a physician, but he was afraid. First, I think he was afraid of what my father would say. More though, I believe he was afraid of the mercury. Boys tell each other horrible tales. In the end, and to my shame, he did not tell and neither did I. When he was dressed, you could not see the rash except on his palms and he kept those carefully hidden. If I had told my father about it then…"

"Oh, Fitzwilliam. You were still a child. You cannot hold yourself accountable for that." She knew he would not believe her. She wrapped her arm more tightly around his and laid her head against his shoulder as they continued to walk.

"After that, I was not as tempted. I would not let what happened to Ge – to _him_, happen to me."

They were both quiet for several minutes. Neither could escape thinking that this was precisely what had happened to Georgiana.

_Poor, poor Fitzwilliam. No wonder his guilt is so enormous. There was already enough without all this._

"I became very, very careful. I have not lived the life of a monk, Elizabeth. But I am much less experienced than others of my station. I have never – I have never been the first one for anyone."

Darcy felt Elizabeth's arm and hand on him, felt her head resting on his shoulder. "So you see, Elizabeth. I am afraid too. I want to make this beautiful for you."

Elizabeth became stiff and raised her head from his shoulder.

"My father… He said that things could be horrible for the woman."

_That bloody bastard. How dare he? He even did that to stop this marriage? What is his game? What sort of a cruel monster is he to scare her so?_

Darcy pulled Elizabeth off the path and behind a tree.

"No. No, my love. There may be some little pain the first time. I have heard it can be so for a maiden. But.." All the time he had been saying this, his hands had not been still. They had gone to her waist, roamed over her back and then settled near the swell of her hips. He pulled her toward him, keeping one hand just above her hips while the other moved to her back. He leaned down. He was so close. She could feel all his heat, his warm breath. His lips met hers and she moaned.

He pulled back and looked into her eyes. "But this feeling between us… Elizabeth, I know it will be wonderful." He kissed her again. "How can it not be?" His lips roamed down her jaw and to her neck. "We will be afraid together, Elizabeth. Somehow, I do not think we will be afraid for long."

/

/

As the carriage sped along, Elizabeth felt none of the isolated fear of yesterday.

All the passengers were still of a serious mood, but Elizabeth felt a new closeness to Fitzwilliam. It was almost as if they held hands instead of sitting on opposite sides of the carriage.

Now and then, she saw a look of anguish cross his face. She did not misunderstand it. He had to be thinking about his sister. Elizabeth was sure those looks had happened the day before, too. How unobservant she had been, buried in her selfish concerns. _He has been so alone._ How much Fitzwilliam had and was suffering. She wished that she really did have his hand in hers so that she could give him a reassuring squeeze. Her devotion deepened. She would take care of this man.

/

/

**Gretna Green**

**December 1, 1811**

The mood in the carriage lightened as they came close to their destination. In spite of everything, there was excitement for the coming wedding. Even the imperturbable Thompson had a slightly different air about him.

The sun was not far from setting as they drove into the town. Four days. They had made the trip in just a little over four days. The coachman drove straight to the church by the green. There would be no getting married over an anvil for his Elizabeth. Darcy had planned ahead. Arrangements had been made for a proper clergyman to marry them in a proper church. It was not the Church of England, but that could not be helped. Elizabeth deserved at least a church. From their last stop, he had sent one of his men, on a strong and fresh horse, to ride hard to the church and let everyone know they would soon arrive. They had taken rooms at the last inn to change. Both Darcy and Elizabeth wanted to marry as soon as they got to Gretna Green, but both also wanted to honor the event.

The occasion was full of surprises for Elizabeth. In the church vestibule, Darcy had approached her and opened a long box. Inside was a simple but beautiful string of emeralds. "To match your eyes." Slowly her removed her old necklace and replaced it with the gems. Akers had somehow produced fresh white roses to add to Elizabeth's hair. _Where did those come from in December?_ Elizabeth heard a piano start to play.

As they walked to their places, Elizabeth took the opportunity to thank Thompson for standing up with her husband. She had privately delighted in having Akers as her witness. Only having her dear Jane could have made her happier.

"Thank you for doing us this service, sir."

The stiff and somber valet replied, "It is my honor, Mistress."

He was sincere and Elizabeth felt the compliment deeply.

When the time came, Darcy placed a gold band embedded with more emeralds on her finger.

Very soon, they were husband and wife.

/

/

There was even a meal at the parsonage. All Darcy's men joined them in celebration. When they came out, the carriage and the horses had been decorated with ribbons. They drove off to a cottage that Darcy had managed to rent.

All those expresses that Miss Bingley had so objected to had been used very well.

Elizabeth felt all the honour of being a much valued bride.

Inside the cottage, she had a wonderful bath and Akers dressed her for the night.

"Akers, I… How can I ever thank you?"

Akers softly smiled. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. That door. Akers gave Elizabeth a kiss on the cheek. "My cherub. Do not worry. He is a good man."

Elizabeth did not notice that her abigail disappeared. She only noticed the door opening slowly. And then, he was there.

The first thing that she saw was his feet, his naked feet. They were so long and strong. There was some dark hair. They were superb. That increasing familiar wave of something went up through her belly and into her chest. Her eyes rose up his form. A long dark robe. Then, his chest. She could see a part of his chest, skin and hair. Her breathing became more rapid and her mouth dry. Her eyes flew to his face. His strong jaw, his nose, his lips, his eyes. _He is so beautiful._ She staggered.

He was at her side in a moment. "Here. Take a sip of this."

She had not even noticed that he had something in his hand.

"Take only a small sip."

She obeyed. It burned going down, but it was a good burn. She took another sip.

"That is right. Just small sips."

In a short time she had emptied the small amount that had been in the glass.

He leaned in. Their mouths were almost touching. Both were breathing rapidly.

Elizabeth did not feel any more moments of fear.

/

/

**Gretna Green, Scotland**

**December 2, 1811**

Elizabeth was not fully awake, but she felt her naked nipples aching in an exquisite way. She lay face down in a bed and thought she could feel every strand of sheet's fibers that touched that sensitive flesh. Never had she felt this kind of fire, such sensations from her bosom. She could not help herself. She moved her chest to rub her nipples against the sheets. The results made her moan. When she moved a little more, her leg slid along some warm and hairy flesh. Then she felt a sleepy arm rub over her and she was lost. Warm hands began to move on her. Moaning again, she turned fully into the body next to her. Each touch of skin on skin was maddening. She squirmed and rubbed, pushing for more.

Then his mouth was on hers. Sleepily, sensuously, it moved away and down her jaw, her throat, her chest. Then, that warm, wet mouth suckled an aching nipple. Her hands, her legs, her arms, her mound rubbed every bit of flesh she could find. When his fingers slipped inside her and his thumb found that throbbing place, she pushed hard against it. His mouth moved from nipple to nipple, suckling, licking, gently biting. She clenched and then spasmed over and over.

Before she could really breathe again, he plunged into her and it all started to build again. The slight soreness was completely buried by the heat, the fullness, the unbearable pleasure of it. Her hands reached for him, pulling him to her, capturing his mouth, moving anything she could to rub against any part of him.

Suddenly he seemed to be lost to everything but where they were joined. His mouth moved off of hers and his cheek pressed heavily into her own. His breathing came faster and his hips pounded into her at an ever increasing rate. She ground into him every time he fully buried himself. And then she could not move. She could only hold on and receive. The world narrowed completely to that sensation that was building in her again. When she again clenched and went over the edge into spasms and waves of pleasure, he stopped moving and cried out.

/

/

When she woke again, the room was fully light. Images of the night flashed through her mind. Rational thought intruded. _This is the marriage bed_. She blushed bright red, remembering everything that they had done.

Suddenly, he pulled her to him. His hands, mouth and body were everywhere, again. Her rational mind disappeared and she was only flesh.

/

/

When she once again regained her senses, she blushed from head to toe. Finally she looked at his face. He was smiling, a broad and happy smile.

"Thank you for marrying me."

Suddenly, Elizabeth frowned. She had not really put the difference in their stations to rest. She was remembering her mother and Lady Lucas. They had been snorting about 'proper ladies' in bed. How had they meant this? Did they mean that Elizabeth had shown herself to be a country wanton and not a proper lady? Fitzwilliam had really seemed to revel in her responses, though. Is that why men kept mistresses, to get this behavior that real ladies would not give them? Still, was not this proof that she was really a country nobody? Would he come to regret her? He had reassured her before, but this, this was new. She needed to tell him how she feared for the future, but how could she speak of it?

Darcy saw her distress and pulled her into his arms. Tenderly he kissed her forehead.

"Oh my love, what is it? I have taken you too much. I am a beast."

His obvious distress gave her courage. "No. No. I was worried. I am worried. The difference in our stations…. Fitzwilliam, do you still think I am a lady?"

"Elizabeth, of what do you speak? Your manners and comportment are beyond reproach. You are every inch a lady."

She pulled away and sat up, clutched the bedding around her. "But, do ladies… Do they respond like I did? Am I too wanton?"

_Ah._ He sat up and wrapped himself around her. She was stiff, but he was comforting and gentle. "Love, this – what we have shared – can be nothing but natural and wonderful. I had no idea I could ever feel things in such a way. As for the ladies of the Ton, Elizabeth, do you not read the gossip sheets?"

She nodded.

Darcy laughed. "Are they not full of dalliances? Elizabeth, think about it. The very proper ladies in the Ton are no such thing. Many of them, if they do not have what they want in their marriages, they seek it somewhere else." He reached over and pulled the bedding down to expose her bosom. He kissed gently along the upper swells and then down between the mounds. Pulling back, he continued to speak. "All of this is nature. Elizabeth, the way we – touch each other, I cannot but believe that this is the way God meant it to be. Ours is not an arranged marriage. We were able to yield to our true desires. But, in our society most do marry for duty. Can you imagine it would be the same if you were married, say to Mr. Collins?"

"Oh, how repulsive! How can you say such a thing?"

He laughed and gathered her closer. "We must be very fortunate. All those arranged marriages are mostly without love." He paused and a seriousness came over his face. "In spite of what brought us so quickly together. This is love. It can be nothing else. We have found what was truly meant to be. Only love, I think, can bring such ecstasy to a man and a woman."

His words shocked her and she moved her head to look at him. "Yes. That is what we did. We did marry for love, did we not?"

Her eyes searched his and his lips descended on her. Finally breaking away, he whispered, "Yes. Yes we did. I love you, Elizabeth."

"Oh Fitzwilliam, I love you."

Lips joined and no more coherent words were spoken.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks again to FeliciaHM and Buzzy. Special thank you to my best buddy, Patricia. She does not read JAFF but she does happen to be an extraordinary OB/GYN. The wonderful woman thought that she was coming to visit for a few relaxing days last fall. Little did she know that I would ply her with wine and together we would work out realistic pathologies and timelines for the diseases in this story. Thanks Patricia. You are the best.

**History Notes: **

**The Bennets: Thanks again to . **Did you know that there are 142 entries in the Peerages for the surname of Bennet? Yes, 142 entries for the spelling with one 't.' That gave me a lot of choices for the ancestors of the Thomas Bennet in our story.

This time, I am really changing history for the Bennet family that I chose to use. However, you will see shortly that I could not resist having one Henry Bennet, the 1st Earl of Arlington, be an ancestor of our Thomas Bennet.

This real Henry Bennet had only one child, a daughter Isabella, whom he married off to an illegitimate son of King Charles II. Isabella was 4 years old on the day of her wedding. The groom was nine. Gee, that marriage took place in the same year that Bennet became an Earl. Fancy that.

Due to Isabella's marriage, the surname of the Earls of Arlington would change from Bennet to Fitzroy. (Fitz = son of and Roy = king.) The real title Earl of Arlington fell into abeyance in 1936 when the latest Earl, at the tender age of 22, died in an automobile race.

Now the liberties that I took: I reached all the way back to that 1st Earl of Arlington, Henry Bennet, and gave him sons. So the fictitious line in my story carries on as Bennets, all the way through to Thomas Bennet.

Why did I do such a thing? The personality and behaviors of that real Henry Bennet made it irresistible.

Honestly, Henry Bennet seems to have been a George Wickham character writ large, only perhaps a little more intelligent version. Henry Bennet was apparently possessed of all possible charms and good manners, easily making himself adored in new company. However his peers, and eventually King Charles, came to see him for what he really was – selfish, greedy, untrustworthy, disloyal and manipulative. Yes, indeed. To paraphrase our dear Jane Austen, Henry Bennet was blessed with such happy manners as to ensure his _making_ friends - whether he was equally capable of _retaining_ them…

Now, history has plenty of manipulative and brown-nosing people in it. Some of them come through to us and many, I am sure, were largely irrelevant and are lost in the dust of time. This Henry Bennet _did_ make himself remembered and mostly by one particular ploy. He was actually in a battle for Charles and was wounded on the nose. He took to wearing a black plaster over the wound to make sure his bravery was seen by all. He kept it up for years. Later, when he could no longer keep his true colors from the King, courtiers who had long hated Bennet rejoiced. They took to making merry by wearing black plasters on their noses.

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**Chapter 4**

**December 2, 1811**

**Gretna Green, Scotland**

Darcy and Elizabeth were awakened by a knocking on their door. Darcy rose, found his robe and went to see what was wrong. Something had to be amiss or they would not have been disturbed.

He was pale when he came back to sit on the bed.

"Fitzwilliam, what is it?"

"An express from Pemberley. Georgiana has taken a strong fever."

Elizabeth rose. "Shall we leave immediately?" She searched for her robe.

"Yes. As soon as may be."

His voice was so controlled again. Elizabeth went to him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling his head to her chest.

"We shall leave quickly and get to her. We will take care of her, Fitzwilliam."

He nodded and wrapped his own arms tightly around her for a moment. Then they let go and prepared to leave for Pemberley.

**P&PP&PP&PP&P**

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**December 3, 1811**

Pen in hand, Thomas Bennet stared down at the blank sheet in front of him. There was no more delaying to be done. He had to write to Leeds and send it at dawn by express to London.

_I ought to find much humor in all this. That Elizabeth, of all people, should elope with a Darcy. Leeds will be furious. _But Thomas could not find it funny. The whole thing was so upsetting that he had not only delayed, he had prevaricated to keep the news quiet as long as possible. _Foolish. I could have made my situation worse. _

Thomas had managed to keep Gardiner under control by sending an express back to his brother apologizing for the alarm. Elizabeth was fine and it was Bennet's mistake to think that she had gone to London. Since Thomas had heard nothing from any of the guardians, he was sure that ploy had worked. However with all the letters between the two households, the Gardiners would not be duped for long.

Now this. Two letters from Elizabeth had arrived yesterday, one for Thomas and one for Jane. Knowing his favorite, Thomas was sure that Elizabeth had also sent a letter to the Gardiners.

Well, no matter. By now Elizabeth was married to that Darcy. The Duke had to be told and by Thomas' hand. Losing all the money was a foregone conclusion at this point. Thomas knew that he dare not make it much worse by incurring royal wrath. Still, Thomas had never had to deal much with the Royals. He did not intend to start. Let the Duke do that.

Jane, compliant thing that she was, had agreed to wait until tomorrow to tell her mother and sisters. But Jane would confide tonight in that maid of hers. Bartlett would send her own express.

Yes. There could be no more delaying.

It occurred to Thomas that he could make sure that London was inundated with information tomorrow. He chuckled. Yes. Thomas' delay in notifying London would go unnoticed under the onslaught of expresses. He decided he would yell aloud tonight, within the hearing of that nosy and gossipy night footman. By morning all the servants would know. Yes. Thomas would curse aloud, seemingly to himself, and make sure all the servants found out that Elizabeth had eloped with Mr. Darcy.

It had been sometimes vexing to know how many of his staff reported to London. _Well, I will use it to my advantage now, as I have done before. _

The Gardiners were also predictable. If they had gotten Elizabeth's letter today, they would spend the evening talking to each other and then decide that they also needed to let the guardians know. They would not, however, let anyone know how Thomas had duped them. No, Edward Gardiner was an intelligent man. He would realize that Fanny stood to suffer here and would not make it any worse.

Suddenly, these thoughts brought Thomas back to what had occupied his time constantly since he knew Elizabeth had eloped. Edward would be right in his thinking. Everything was going to change.

But Thomas did not think about Fanny's comforts. It was his own misery that washed over him.

It was bad enough that he was going to be deprived of Elizabeth. The rest of it was just disgusting.

He threw the pen down, rose and went through to the library. All the candles were lit and the fire was roaring. The staff knew well to keep the library warm and ready for Thomas until he retired each night.

It was a truly beautiful room and held a fortune in books. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, filling himself with the leather. _Well, this I will keep. All of it, from the beeswax candles right up to acquiring whatever first editions I desire. And I want my trips to London! All of it, I will keep all of it! It is why I made these bloody bargains to begin with!_

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**Euston, Suffolk**

**February 12, 1789**

Visitors, important visitors, had arrived late yesterday. Thomas Bennet could tell from all the commotion in the house. Servants scurried everywhere.

Well, it was of no consequence to Thomas. He kept by himself and to himself. Only when his father summoned him did Thomas join the family in dining. That almost never happened. In fact, the most time that he spent with any of them was in travelling to and from London. Even then, Thomas preferred to ride and avoid the carriages.

All in all, they seemed to mostly forget about him. He was very pleased with that. Thomas had been afraid, when he finished Cambridge, that he would be sent off to that little estate he had inherited in Hertfordshire. He had absolutely no interest in living in or running the place. True, it was close to London. However, that was all it had to offer. Its library was tiny and nearly empty. The house there could offer none of the luxuries of Euston. Here he could have all the comforts and none of the expenses of his own upkeep. Euston's library was exquisite. The cook was wonderful. The servants were very well trained. The Earl always kept a generous supply of the best ports.

Thomas' profits from Hertfordshire, along with the allowance his father continued to give him, left him generous sums to spend as he pleased. He indulged in his books, his clothing and his horses. Last season, he had even acquired a mistress and installed her in a small house in Town.

Thomas knew his father, the Earl of Arlington, had never cared for him and the feeling was mutual. As for Thomas' brothers, they neither liked nor wanted him around. They never had. The older four boys were from his father's first marriage. When that woman died, a pretty but poor vicar's daughter caught the old Earl's eye. From all the comments over the course of his life, Thomas had concluded that his mother had never been accepted and the whole family looked down on her.

Well, she had obliged them by catching a fever and dying fairly quickly. Unfortunately for the Bennets, before doing so she left behind another son, Thomas. Him, they had to keep. But he was never one of them.

None of that really mattered. He did not like people anyway, except for the amusement he found in their follies. He could find as much of that as he desired just by venturing into society. No, Thomas did not mind at all being ignored by his family. He preferred the company of his books. Here at Euston and at Arlington house in London, he could have that and do it in comfort. Yes. He hoped everyone would just continue to forget about him.

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It was not to be. Thomas was summoned to his father's study that very night. Two others were present, Thomas' eldest brother and Francis Osborne, heir to the aged and ailing Duke of Leeds.

_What can they want? _The answer to that was a real surprise. Osborne's eldest child, Elizabeth, had been put upon by the King in a fit of madness. She was carrying a child. These men sitting here all wanted Thomas to marry her. The girl must have a husband.

Things might have gone differently if Thomas' eldest brother, the Viscount, had been absent. Of all the sons, this one had been truly resentful of the Earl taking a second wife. The Viscount had adored his mother. He had always wished the second marriage had never happened and that Thomas had never been born. Thomas' caustic personality had only served to reinforce the Viscount's feelings.

It hit Thomas with full and undeniable force, as he watched the Viscount's face, that when the old Earl died, this brother would throw Thomas out without a second thought. Of course Thomas had always known that. It would have been best to be saving money and preparing for that day, but life was just so easy and comfortable. As long as everyone just forgot about him, Thomas had been content.

His eyes went to his father. Thomas had not really looked at the man in years. The Earl was indeed growing old_. He looks healthy, but for how long?_ In this moment, Thomas knew he had been denying the future for too long.

His eyes went back to Osborne. _Well, maybe this situation had great potential._

As they talked among themselves, Thomas studied the three men in the room with him, a Marquess, an Earl and a Viscount. They were so arrogant, so self-assured. They all had position, power and wealth. As for himself, Thomas knew that all he had ever been was an unneeded spare. It seemed that they had now found a use for him. Well, for that they would pay.

Thomas Bennet was a clever man. He was sure that each of these three arrogant prigs all had his own reasons to use Thomas in this way. However, he knew there was only one of them that Thomas needed to please, the Marquess. That man had to want certain things for his pregnant daughter. _Things he must think I can give._ _Why me?_ If Thomas could figure this out and make himself the embodiment of those things, then he could command a healthy price.

"My Lord, how do you see the future for your poor child? I am possessed of only an insignificant little estate. Its house is certainly not worthy of her. And this child is Royal. Surely there must be someone in a better position to care for your daughter and this babe?"

Francis Osborne, soon to be the 5th Duke of Leeds, looked with even more interest at Thomas Bennet. Osborne had thought of several potential husbands for his beloved daughter. Indeed, if the true circumstances were widely known, many would vie for the position. However, Osborne had his own desires here. First and foremost, he wanted someone he could control; someone who would not try to take Elizabeth away. However Osborne not been expecting those questions about Elizabeth's welfare. From what he had learned of this youngest Bennet, the man was truly selfish. Osborne had been expecting Thomas to inquire directly about how much he was to be paid.

Osborne and Thomas's brother the Viscount had long been friends. Osborne knew all about this unwanted fifth son. It did not matter if the man was selfish. Elizabeth's reputation and happiness were what mattered. Marriage to an Earl's son would ensure the reputation. Osborne thought that the reclusive Thomas Bennet would also be perfect for her happiness. He could stay holed up with his books and Elizabeth could go live her life.

Osborne had long been skeptical about the way that the Viscount characterized his youngest brother. Osborne had known that the Viscount had bitterly resented it when his father had married again. How did that color his vision of Thomas Bennet?

Osborne was sure, from what the Viscount and the Earl had said, that Thomas would stay at the Osborne homes forever if he could. At Keton Hall, the food, the library and the elegant comforts were all at hand. This was just what Osborne wanted. Elizabeth would be at home where he could make sure of her welfare. Yes. Thomas Bennet was a good choice. Any other man might take Elizabeth to some far away estate. However, if the Thomas would be an unpleasant husband, it could not be born.

Therefore, Osborne had arrived to look Thomas Bennet over. If he really was as disagreeable as the Viscount said, then he could not be married to Elizabeth, no matter how convenient it might be.

Now, with Thomas' first questions being about Elizabeth and her unborn child, Osborne felt truly hopeful about this choice. Perhaps the Viscount did not know his youngest brother as well as he thought he did. Thomas Bennet did not seem so entirely selfish. It was time to take the measure of the man.

"Would you mind if Bennet and I spoke privately for a while?"

The Earl and his heir left the room.

Sooner than Thomas Bennet could have imagined, it was all set in motion. Time was of the essence, not only because of Elizabeth's delicate condition, but because the old duke was dying. If at all possible, Elizabeth should be married before that happened.

In little more than a fortnight, Thomas Bennet and Elizabeth Amelia Osborne were married.

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**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**December 3, 1811**

A log crashing in the fireplace brought Thomas back to the present.

_I will not give up I bargained for. _

Thomas decided at that moment that he would keep many things, in fact everything he wanted. Cook, his valet, enough servants to see to his comforts, his wines and his favorite horses with their groom would all stay. His mistress he would let go. He was tired of her and this was as good an excuse as any. But, Thomas would make sure he had the funds to acquire another if courtesans proved unsatisfactory.

Fannie would just have to deal with rest. He smiled at the thought of her reactions to the change. It would be soon in coming. She really would need her smelling salts when most of her servants left.

And her reaction to the money! The next quarterly payments for the girls' upkeep would never come. Longbourn's income would be all there was from now on. _Poor Fanny will get very little of it!_

As Thomas headed back to his study, less pleasant thoughts intruded. He wondered how long it would be until they came for Jane. He did not think it could be long. Thomas knew that he should tell Jane the truth of her birth. At the same time, he knew he would not. He would not be the one to deliver that pain. _Maybe they will not tell her. _

_Enough. It is done. I shall still keep my existence. I shall miss Elizabeth, but I would have lost her in a year anyway._ It was time to write the letter to Leeds.

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**Sion Hill, London**

**December 4, 1811**

Only the crackling of the fire disturbed the silence of the room that held Robert Darcy, the 4th Earl of Holderness and George Osborne, His Grace the 6th Duke of Leeds.

Once Holderness and Leeds had talked matters over and vented their spleens at Thomas Bennet for not contacting them when Darcy had first proposed marriage, the two men relaxed a little. After all Elizabeth must care for him to have eloped. In addition, Fitzwilliam Darcy was not only a suitable match, he was widely known as an honourable man.

Indeed, the situation was not too bad, especially from Holderness' point of view. When he died, the Pemberley Darcys would be the wealthiest Darcys still around.

Their family lines had diverged some two centuries ago, not taking into account a few family marriages. But Darcys were not known for siring many children. Boys were especially few. The number of Darcys had grown so small that those remaining all called each other cousin, so matter how distant their common ancestor. Too bad the Pemberley Darcys had always refused titles. It would be nice to go to his grave knowing titled Darcys were still around.

Maybe his beautiful great-granddaughter would produce male children for Fitzwilliam. It was possible. She was part Osborne and part Bennet. Those two families always had plenty of sons. Then, at least, a boy with some of Holderness' own blood would still carry on the Darcy name.

Holderness decided at that moment to send for his solicitor. There was nothing that he could do about the entailed lands. Those would go to his grandson Leeds. But the rest of it he could leave to Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth to be passed on to their male children. Yes. He would leave all he could to Darcys of the future. Maybe some of his blood could continue to walk the face of England and carry with them the Darcy name.

Holderness returned his attention to his grandson. "Have you already gone to the Queen?"

"No. I go there next. She will insist that Jane come to her now. She has only been left at Longbourn so long because no one wanted to part the girls."

Both me left unspoken their questions about what Jane would be told and how she would react. It was not and had never been in their hands.

"Shall I accompany you?"

"Thank you, Grandfather. However, I believe I can to this. You look tired today."

Indeed Leeds had been surprised at how old and tired his grandfather was. It was too bad that the animosity had carried on for so long. Leeds would make a point of seeing his grandfather more often. _Let the past lie buried. Maybe some good has happened. Maybe Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth have brought us back together before the old man is no more._

Leeds stood to leave. When he looked back at his grandfather, intending to give a fond farewell, the old man was asleep.

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**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**December 4, 1811**

Elizabeth barely registered the beauties of the estate as they approached from a hill some distance away. Fears for her husband and her new sister had left no place for any considerations other than helping them.

Even before they entered the house, Elizabeth felt the oppressive atmosphere. As their coats and hats were removed, she saw a very somber, elderly woman waiting for them some distance away. As soon as they were free of their outerwear, Darcy steered Elizabeth toward the woman.

"Elizabeth, allow me to introduce our housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds. Mrs. Reynolds, I am honored to present Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy."

Elizabeth felt all the tension and fear radiating from her husband. She looked over at him. Somehow she was not surprised that none of it showed. How perfectly aristocratic and proper he looked. How cool and controlled he sounded. But Elizabeth somehow knew that he could hardly hold back from racing to his sister.

"Mrs. Darcy, welcome to Pemberley. Forgive me for not assembling the staff. Under the circumstances, I… If you wish, I can send from them right away."

"Nonsense, Mrs. Reynolds. It is not the time to think of such things. How does Miss Darcy?"

Relief flowed through Helen Reynolds. Although she had kept some faith that her dear boy would choose well, he had been so agitated when he left a month and a half ago. In his upset state, he would have been easy prey for a clever woman.

This tiny, new Mrs. Darcy did not seem in the least interested in the fanfare that should have accompanied her arrival. Her first words were for Georgiana.

"Her fever is worse. However, the two additional doctors from London have been here some four days. We are hopeful."

"This fever, when did it start?"

"She started to feel a little warm about four days ago, sir."

Darcy closed his eyes in pain. _While I was on the road to Scotland._ Had he failed his sister again? Selfishly taking the time to marry before returning home to her?

"But sir, the fever was nothing at first. The doctors did not consider it at all serious. If there had been any worries, we would have sent word. You were very clear about your route and expected stops. We could have found you. Besides, you had already brought in the new physicians. There was no way to do more. No one could have known this was coming."

This housekeeper was immediately one of Elizabeth's favorite people in the entire world. Mrs. Reynolds had known that Fitzwilliam would feel much guilt for having been away. She was doing all she could stop his remorse. Elizabeth could have hugged her.

Mrs. Reynolds spoke again. "But sir, it is a blessing you are here now. They argue amongst themselves about what to do."

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If Elizabeth had not been so focused on Fitzwilliam's reactions, she would have been faint herself when they first entered the stifling hot room and saw Georgiana. The poor girl was gaunt and flushed with fever. Elizabeth had cared for too many ill tenants. She was well aware that the situation was now dire.

She gently led Fitzwilliam to a chair by Georgiana's beside and sat him down. His hands immediately went to grasp one of Georgiana's.

Elizabeth slipped away and went to Mrs. Reynolds, who was standing at the door.

"Mrs. Reynolds, I want a basin of the coolest water we have now. Right away. Can you assign someone to see to that new cold water is brought often? And please get some cloths that I can dip into it. We do have ice? Bring some in so it here if we need it. And do let us get these windows open and this room cooled down."

"Begging your pardon Mrs. Darcy, but the doctor – he wants more fires and heat to work out the phlegm."

"Forgive me Mrs. Reynolds, but I do not care what he wants. We must cool her down. Please, the water and cloths as soon as you can."

The housekeeper's respect for this new Mrs. Darcy increased. Helen Reynolds had tried to say the same to the doctors and had been ignored, although she saw the young Mr. Jones was arguing about it, too. She did not think that Mr. Wendel would so successfully override this Mrs. Darcy. _Thank goodness_. _A Mistress who knows how to be a mistress._

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Darcy sat by one side of the bed as Elizabeth gently tended to Georgiana from the other. She was already less agitated and restless.

The doctors came in. One of them took in the cracked window, the now low burning fire and Elizabeth dipping a cloth into water and then putting it on the patient's forehead. He was livid. Not aware that he was addressing the mistress of the house, he began to loudly berate Elizabeth for not following his instructions.

Jumping up, she grabbed both physicians by the elbows and led them into the hall, a surprised Darcy following behind.

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"I am sure both of you are much esteemed and if you wish to discuss my sister's treatment with my husband or even myself, you may do so. However, if one of you ever raises your voice like that in her room again, you will regret it. Miss Darcy does not need to be further irritated and disturbed by such behavior. Am I clear?"

The two doctors were too stunned to speak. Darcy withheld a smile. "Gentlemen, I should much like to speak with you. I was only spending a little time with my sister before seeking you out. If you would care to meet with me, let us adjourn to a sitting room. Mrs. Darcy?" Darcy gestured for Elizabeth to proceed down the hall with them.

"I do not wish to leave Miss Darcy, sir."

He nodded and proceeded down the hall, followed by the two doctors and the Kympton apothecary who had been standing in the hall waiting.

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As soon as Darcy closed the door to the sitting room, the doctor who had berated Elizabeth began speaking. Darcy stopped him at once. The scene in the hallway had pulled him out of the daze he had been in since seeing Georgiana.

"May I have the honor of knowing to whom I am speaking?"

"I am George Wendel, the Second." the angry doctor tried unsuccessfully not to huff.

_Ah. A well-known name. The sought after physician to the very wealthiest of the Ton. So this is one of the men Richard found. How on earth did he get the man to venture to Derbyshire?_

Breathing in deeply to control his anger, Wendel spoke again. "I am sure Mrs. Darcy means well sir, but the situation is serious. We cannot use the mercury yet. The patient is too weak. We must use heat to dry out the excess phlegm. This fever is ideal. It must be allowed to rage."

Darcy turned his head to the other physician. "And you sir, are you also physician to the Ton?"

Darcy could swear that the man bit back a smirk.

"No, sir. I am Steven Jones, Army Physician."

_Good for Richard. He must have brought me the best of both worlds, at least by reputation._

"And do you agree with Mr. Wendel?"

Jones threw a quick glance at Wendel. The man was still red and furious. "No, sir."

"WHAT?"

Jones ignored his now even more red-faced peer. "I said no. Mr. Darcy, trying to cool Miss Darcy down may not save her, but if that fever continues to rage she will die for sure."

The Kympton apothecary, Higgins, spoke. "I agree with Mr. Jones, sir. Before we can do anything else, we must get her fever down. Begging your pardon, sir. But Mr. Wendel has carried all before him. Bless you for arriving with Mrs. Darcy when you did."

A thoroughly insulted Wendel left the room and left Pemberley the following morning.

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When Georgiana's fever finally broke, Darcy and Elizabeth allowed themselves a night's rest. Mrs. Reynolds and Jones were both sitting with Georgiana and would come for the Darcys at once should she worsen.

Bathed and in nightclothes, Elizabeth sat in her room. She did not take in the opulence of her new surroundings.

Desperately tired, she could not lie down to sleep. All she could think of was going to Fitzwilliam. Did he truly wish to be alone? She knew he would be blaming himself for everything. He would not come to her for comfort. She must go to him.

Decided, she knocked softly on their connecting door. No answer came. Turning the handle slowly, she let herself into his rooms. There he was; sitting still on the side of his turned-down bed, not seeing and not hearing.

Elizabeth went over and put her arms around him, holding him tightly to her, but he did not respond. She needed to get through to him, to show him that he was loved.

She could feel that he wore only his robe. Gently, she untied it and pulled the sleeves from Fitzwilliam's limp arms. Stepping back, she removed her own robe and nightgown. After climbing astride onto his lap, she gently put pressure on his head until it came down to rest on her naked bosom. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and gently rocked.

Darcy made no conscious decision about anything. However, something deep inside him must have felt the safety of this bosom, these arms. His own arms moved and closed around Elizabeth. For only the third time since he had been a small boy, Darcy cried.

Elizabeth held and rocked and cooed to the man in her embrace. Suddenly, Darcy's mouth closed on one of her nipples and suckled hard. The two rolled sideways onto the bed.

Suckling, grasping with his hands and burrowing ever more closely to her, Darcy's body found the warm and wet comfort of Elizabeth's core. He pushed inside. A few short thrusts and it was over. He fell asleep almost immediately, not releasing her in any way.

Elizabeth managed to find an edge of the bedding and pulled it over them. She soon joined her husband in deep sleep.

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It was good, very good that they found such comfort in these early days. Things would only get more trying. Georgiana would survive this fever and the mercury after it. However, one or both would leave her mind much damaged.

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	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for all your wonderful reviews. I have read them all and can't wait to answer them. I have had 5 house guests who just left this morning! The coming week should be much more normal.**

**History Notes:**

The Keton Hall in this story (also known as Keeton, Kiveton and Keveton Hall) was actually destroyed in 1812.

The real Osbornes no longer lived there. Legend has it that George Osborne, the 6th Duke of Leeds, had lost a bet to the Prince Regent. The price paid was the destruction of this ancestral home. It had belonged to Osborne ancestors since the 1500s.

Ah, history. I wonder what the bet was about and this came to be the price that was paid.

**Meryton, Hertfordshire**

**December 4, 1811**

Giving his hair a final rumple, George Wickham strolled from his room. His was a confident and easy pace. His fellow officers would be waiting for him downstairs. He smiled. He was definitely the unofficial leader of this group of men. They were all envious of his manners and his charms, especially with respect to the ladies.

Of course, the fact that Colonel Forster had singled Wickham out had only added to his growing power within the regiment. Bless Darcy. Whatever that arrogant prig had done was perfect. Forster positively loathed the fellow. Consequently Wickham, who had suffered so cruelly at Darcy's hands, was now a favored son.

Upon returning to Meryton, Wickham had been delighted to find that Darcy had fled the county, leaving a great deal of ill will behind. Wickham found himself with easy duties, even easier credit and the sympathy and goodwill of all those around him. Yes, this sojourn into Meryton and the militia was proving to be just the thing.

Now if he just had a bit of muslin or two, he would be a contented man. The local bar maid had certainly made her offers clear enough, but George was still suffering from this new pox. He did not want another one. He thought it best to devote his energies toward seducing local maidens. Besides, he enjoyed the chase. Daylight hours had been devoted to the bookseller's daughter and to a lovely little piece that belonged to a farmer. Tonight would be devoted to the local gentry. It was time to pick a target.

_And here we go._ Wickham came out into the street. He and his fellow officers jovially set off to another card party at the Philips'.

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"Yes. Ten thousand a year and likely more. It is a good as a lord. How he chose Lizzy is beyond me though. Headstrong girl. I am sure it is her doing that they went to Scotland. She did it to try my nerves. Well, what carriages, what jewels she will have. And she will throw the girls into the paths of other rich men. Surely Mr. Bingley will be back soon for Jane, too."

George Wickham had been all ears for some time now. There was much enthusiastic gossip in the room and he was sure that he had heard Darcy's name as well as the word elopement. It must be false. Darcy would never elope.

"Oh, Mr. Wickham. Is it not all a good joke?"

Wickham felt an arm wrap around his and looked down to see a very full bosom close to overflowing its dress. He clearly recognized those dugs_. Lydia Bennet._

"My dear Miss Lydia. How lovely you look tonight." Wickham bent over to whisper in her ear. "Now tell me, please. What is your good joke?"

A great number of things went through Wickham's mind as Lydia Bennet flirtatiously told all she knew. Darcy had eloped and with the Bennet sister that Wickham had never met.

"And she never wanted me to have any fun."

_So, you have at least one sensible sister._

"She is so selfish. I could never borrow her things. Why did she get better things anyway? And her own private maid?"

_Why indeed. _

"Oh, Mr. Wickham, she always had her nose in a book! Can you imagine anyone so boring?"

_Yes, I can. She is hanging here on my arm. _

"Well, I am delighted. Just think how miserable they will make each other! Scowling Mr. Darcy and stuffy Lizzy. Oh, I shall die for laughing."

As he laughed with Lydia, his mind reeled. Darcy had eloped. Why? Had it anything to do with Georgiana? Wickham absolutely had to know.

Suddenly he was distracted by Lydia's bosom bumping against him as she laughed. He smiled down at the creature. Lydia gaily chattered and laughed on. Little did she know that she had just been become prey. Wickham had decided Lydia Bennet was his next conquest. _Seducing another sister of Darcy! _Wickham licked his lips as he thought about this delicious revenge.

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**December 4, 1811**

Despite all of Mrs. Bennet's protests, Jane stayed home. Her thoughts were just too jumbled for company tonight.

She worried for Mr. Darcy's poor sister. What kind of illness was the poor child suffering from? Lizzy was such a good nurse. Surely she would help the girl.

In spite of the urgent circumstances, Jane was happy for Elizabeth. She truly was. Elizabeth's letter had been filled with affection for Mr. Darcy. Surely, she had married for love, just as the two of them had always planned.

Jane was sorry that she could not have been at the wedding to stand up with her sister. She was sure that Elizabeth had felt it keenly, too.

Moreover, it was disturbing to know that the pair had to elope. It all had to be some grand misunderstanding. _I know Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham had some great misunderstanding. Father and Mr. Darcy must have had something similar. Surely Father did not know how ill Mr. Darcy's sister was. _ Not for a moment did Jane doubt her father nor did she think that Mr. Darcy was anything but the best of men. Elizabeth loved him and he was Mr. Bingley's closest friend. Mr. Darcy must be held in highest esteem. Surely Elizabeth's letter to their father had cleared things up and the couple would soon be welcomed back to Longbourn.

Jane was sorry that Elizabeth had not told her about the elopement. She knew that Elizabeth had been sparing her anguish. It would have been painful to have had to keep such a secret from the rest of the family. Still, she would have done it. Jane shook her head. It did no one any good to dwell on this. Elizabeth loved her, of that Jane was sure. She was also sure that it had hurt Elizabeth deeply not to be able to tell Jane. No more. _She is happy and I will only be happy for her._

But the thoughts that had really kept Jane at home were not thoughts of Elizabeth at all. No, Elizabeth's situation had only given Jane the truth about her own state. Jane was not happy. She was broken-hearted.

Beautiful, charming and smiling Charles Bingley had stolen her heart and then he had gone. It was not his fault. He had never spoken any words of love. He had never asked to court her. Jane must have misunderstood him from the start. He was too good and too kind to have purposefully hurt her.

It had to only have been Jane's imagination that created something more. _But I did believe, I almost do believe he felt love for me._

Jane sat down on the edge of her bed and closed her eyes. She saw his handsome face, his mesmerizing eyes. She felt his fingers brush against hers as he handed her a glass of punch. She felt his hand on her elbow as he guided her to a chair.

_No. I was mistaken. That is all._

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**Edward Street, London**

**December 6, 1811**

"Danny boy." Colonel Fitzwilliam's hand came down on Welcher's shoulder. "It is colder than a witch's notch. Are you alright?"

Welcher instinctively stood at attention. Some habits just did not go away. "Not to worry, sir. I wasn't out all night. Paid some of me urchins to watch in the coldest hours."

Fitzwilliam trusted Welcher. If Welcher trusted those urchins, then Fitzwilliam did. "Anything to report?"

"She went to the same pub and then brought the same stallion home again last night. He left just a few minutes ago, whistling and tossing a coin in the air."

Somehow that really bristled. Fitzwilliam already knew that he and Darcy had been mistaken in trusting Mrs. Younge. To find that she paid for sex was just salt on an open wound. Could the woman's character get any more disgusting?

"But no sign of Wickham?"

"Sorry sir. None at all."

Fitzwilliam sighed. "Well, she is still the best chance we have in London." He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a bag of coins. "There should be enough in here to hold you and your boys over for a while. Keep a couple of them on her night and day. I am sure he has been here. I should have set a tighter watch from the start. I did not think he had it in him to elude us so. If you need more funds or anything else, come round to Darcy's house. I have to travel to Pemberley, but Baird will be staying there while I am gone."

The Colonel did not need to tell Welcher to make sure that the urchins did not spook Mrs. Younge or Wickham if he showed up. Welcher knew his job.

Nor did Danny Welcher need to be told that his Colonel was deeply worried over something new. Whatever was pulling the man off to Mr. Darcy's estate was hurting the good Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"Don't you worry none, sir. If Wickham shows up here, we'll get him."

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Colonel Fitzwilliam strode away, anxious to finish this morning's business and get on the road. _Fever. The French disease._ His hand went to the hilt of his sword. He wondered just how slowly he could make a man die.

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**Grosvenor Square, London**

**December 6, 1811**

"Charles. Charles!" There was still no answer. Caroline boldly opened the door to her brother Hurst's study.

No wonder Charles had not answered. He was sprawled out on a settee. The room stank from of brandy. Caroline's eyes quickly found the shattered remnants of a decanter and the stain of the liquor.

Smiling to herself, she left the room. Let Charles have a few more days of self-pity. Jane Bennet had been, after all, a true beauty. Caroline was not heartless. Her brother could indulge in some regret, at least until Mr. Darcy came back to town.

It did give Caroline the perfect reason to call on him for help. Mr. Darcy would see to it that Charles forgot that country nobody. That meant, of course, that Charles must be put in the way of other beautiful, and this time appropriate, young ladies. Mr. Darcy would squire them to all manner of entertainments.

Some shopping was in order. Caroline must be every inch the perfect mate as she appeared at place after place on Mr. Darcy's arm. _And now there will nothing to distract him._ Caroline's smile widened as she made for her rooms. She imagined with glee all the notices in the gossip sheets. _The elegant CB was once again in the company of the handsome FD of Derbyshire. Shall an announcement come soon?_

Yes. Everyone was now proceeding as it should. It was very good to be out of Hertfordshire.

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**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**December 7, 1811**

Fitzwilliam rode into Pemberley along with the last setting rays of the sun. He had just handed his reins over to a groom when Pemberley's door opened. A woman flew down the stairs and into Fitzwilliam's arms.

The Colonel should have been shocked that his cold and distant mother had just run into his arms. He should have been even more unbelieving that she was now crying. But his thoughts had flown immediately to Georgiana. Was she dying? Already dead?

Unconsciously he closed his arms around the weeping Lady Matlock, all the while eyeing the front of Pemberley for some signs of black. It was too dark to be absolutely sure, but he felt relief that he could discern nothing.

"Georgiana?"

Lady Matlock heard the cracking in her son's voice and drew back. "No. No. She lives. Her fever has broken. She lives."

Mother and son stood for a long time, doing something that neither could remember - holding each other.

Finally Lady Matlock stepped back and began to search her pocket for a kerchief. Richard handed one to her.

"Thank you. Forgive me."

"Nonsense."

He offered his arm to his mother. She gripped it tightly as they entered the house.

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Settled into a drawing room and waiting for some supper, Richard considered all he had discovered in these first few minutes.

Georgiana was resting peacefully with Mrs. Reynolds and a physician keeping watch.

Richard's father and brother, thanks be to Heaven, were not here.

Lady Matlock had come when news of Georgiana's dire state had reached her. However, Richard's mother did not seem aware of the cause of Georgiana's illness. Thanks be to Heaven for that, too.

Darcy and his new wife were sleeping. It was apparently their first rest in many days. Old Reynolds, the always perfectly stoic and proper butler, had practically glowered at Richard when he had suggested that he might look in on Darcy. The Master and the Mistress were not to be disturbed. They needed to rest.

And most interesting of all, the new mistress was spoken of in almost reverent tones.

Richard handed his mother a sherry. "So Mother, I take it that you have met Darcy's new wife."

The Lady Matlock smiled. "I have."

Richard's surprises were never ending. Did his mother just smile?

"The servants seem very – respectful – of her."

Now Lady Matlock laughed. "Completely devoted."

_Mother is laughing!_

Richard was now quite confused. What in this house had so changed his mother? Moreover, how could the Pemberley staff become devoted to the new mistress in a few short days? Good grief. They did not give their loyalty easily. Darcy had been married for surely less than a week. This new wife could have only been at Pemberley for days at most.

The baffled expression on her son's face made the Lady Matlock laugh again. "Let me tell you what she did."

Lady Matlock made quick work of the tale of a tiny little whirlwind coming into Pemberley and allowing no one to get in her way as she saved Georgiana's life. "And now, she has ordered them all to let Darcy get some rest. The poor man is a wreck. But mark my words, this new Mrs. Darcy will see to it that he also recovers."

They were interrupted by the call to supper. Richard was most anxious to meet Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy.

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**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**December 8, 1811**

It had been a quiet Sunday with no engagements. True, the Lucases had come to gossip. But the conversation had not held Lydia's attention. What did she care about Lizzy's scandalous elopement or Charlotte's engagement to that ridiculous clergyman?

Lydia knew that she would have cared about both before. Now, however, she had more important things on her mind.

For once, Lydia was quiet. Kitty even abandoned her and spent the visit with Maria. Lydia did not mind. She needed to think.

Now the house was finally quiet. Lydia sat at her window, looking out into the black.

_With Darcy in your family, we must keep everything quiet until we can elope. He hates me. He will stop us just to hurt me. _

_Let me touch you. You are my wife already in all but name. Do not deny us._

_You must not love me as I love you. If you loved me, you would let me. _

George's words rang over and over through her head. She did love George. She did. How could he think otherwise?

Lydia shivered. Her body certainly wanted him. Never had she imagined such feelings.

She was weakening and she knew it. Perhaps George was right. It was all just nature. It was how people showed their love to each other.

How Lydia wanted someone to talk with! Kitty and Maria were too silly, Mary too pious, and Jane too pure. Lydia wanted very much for her straight-forward sister to be at home. Lizzy would not laugh or sermonize. Lizzy would listen. And she was always talking about and reading about nature. She may not say what Lydia wanted to hear, but whatever she said would help make sense of this all.

Suddenly the fifteen year old Lydia Bennet missed her stuffy second sister very much.

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**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**December 9, 1811**

"Mother, look! The most enormous carriages are arriving!"

Kitty's loud proclamation brought Mrs. Bennet immediately to the window. Indeed the largest equipages that she had ever seen were coming to a stop outside Longbourn. Not only that, but there were liveried riders! Two were dismounting in front and two more could be seen behind. And there were footmen riding the tails!

Mrs. Bennet was so astounded that she stood speechless and unmoving. She watched one carriage door open and saw a portly but obviously wealthy man descend. He turned to hand down an equally elegant lady. They moved toward Longbourn's door with four of their men following closely behind.

By the time Mrs. Bennet regained her senses and hurried into the hall, all she was able to see were two of the riders. She quickly made her way toward Mr. Bennet's study only to see Mr. Hill pulling the door closed.

"Mrs. Bennet, Lord and Lady Harcourt are here to see the master. I must ask for refreshment for their men." With a bow, the butler disappeared.

A stunned Mrs. Bennet went back to the morning room.

Mr. Hill fretfully made his way toward the kitchens, the scene that had just occurred playing out in his mind.

_The door opened to a familiar face._

"_Hill."_

"_Your Lordship."_

"_Miss Jane is within?"_

"_Yes, Your Lordship."_

"_Very well. We will see Thomas first. Two maids await in second carriage. When Thomas calls for Miss Jane to join us, send them to Bartlett so they can pack some things for Miss Jane."_

"_Yes, Your Lordship. This way sir, milady."_

As Hill entered the back of the house, he found his wife standing outside the kitchen door.

"It is time, Alfred?'

Hill nodded solemnly.

"Poor Miss Jane."

"Aye, wife. He should have told her years ago. This will not go easy on that delicate creature."

"Should I go with her?"

"It is out of our hands, Grace. It has always been out of our hands." He paused and then relayed Lord Harcourt's orders to pack up Jane's belongings as soon as she had been called downstairs.

A tear rolled down Mrs. Hill's cheek as she made her way back to the kitchens. The royal servants would need refreshment while they waited.

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Jane stared unseeing at Lady Harcourt and the maid sitting across from her. _My Godmother is the Queen! I have always been supposed to go and live in London! Why did no one tell me? Who am I? Who was my mother that the Queen insists I come to her?_ It was all too stressful and Jane fainted dead away.

Bartlett had been eyeing her charge carefully and was able to catch Jane before she was injured. With the other maid's help, they laid Jane down and Bartlett cradled her head.

"Be ready to help if we hit a rut. I can't hold her on the seat from here."

"Poor girl."

Jane's eyelids fluttered open and Bartlett gently patted her arm. "Sleep Miss Jane. Worry later. Sleep for now."

Jane nodded and closed her eyes.

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Thomas Bennet stood at his window watching the carriages pull away. He had locked the door and was ignoring Mrs. Bennet's screeches.

Some while later, brandy in hand, he was staring again at his Elizabeth's miniature. His mind flew back in time.

**Keton Hall, South Yorkshire**

**February 23, 1789**

A special license had been obtained and Thomas Bennet was married to Elizabeth Amelia Osborne less than a fortnight after he had first heard of the idea. Not only her condition, but also the health of the Duke brought on such speed. The whole Osborne family was worried that the old Duke would die before the marriage could take place. The circumstances could not stand for a delay due to mourning. Indeed the old Duke did pass on less than a month after the wedding. Thomas Bennet was now son to the new Duke of Leeds.

Bennet enjoyed very much spending his new found wealth to make Longbourn into an estate worthy of him. Never again would he be without a comfortable house and a guaranteed living. However, Thomas had no ideas to actually occupy Longbourn at the present. Keton Hall was where he had promised to stay for now and he happily did so.

Surprisingly, Thomas found himself increasingly fond of his new wife. She was a tiny thing and had a glorious head of rich brown hair. It looked like the beautiful mahogany wood that was being brought in from the Americas. Thomas decided he would use that wood in his new library at Longbourn.

Elizabeth also had the most sparkling green eyes that he had ever seen. She laughed easily and had a quick wit. Intelligence just shone out of her. For the first time in his life, Thomas was truly drawn to another person.

Her confinement was not easy and she was in her rooms for much of the time. Instead of searching for solitude, Thomas found himself staying with her. They read, separately and to each other. They played chess. They talked. Thomas had his first and only friend.

For a time, Thomas' natural tendencies toward cruelty seemed to fade away.

In August, Elizabeth gave birth to a blond-haired, blue-eyed girl, Jane Charlotte Bennet.

The little family was largely left to itself. Living at Keton Hall was a good deal like living at Euston for Thomas. If anything, it was more luxurious. Indeed, they were both happy in their isolation and comfort, Thomas because he always wanted it and Elizabeth because of the high cost she had paid to be in society. They both doted on the sweet baby girl.

In time, the relationship of Thomas and Elizabeth deepened and once again Elizabeth was with child. The fates were not kind. This lying in took his wonderful wife. However, it did leave him with an infant that had her mother's eyes and her mother's hair. Thomas could name her nothing other than Elizabeth.

He could no longer stand to be at Keton Hall. He also had no desire to return to Euston, not that he would have been welcomed there. He decided that he would take his girls to Hertfordshire. There he could raise them away from the society that he detested and that had cost his wife so much.

The powerful Earl of Holderness was present at the castle, as he had been for the birth of Jane. He was, after all, grandfather to Elizabeth Osborne and a representative of the Royals. No matter how unwelcome this Darcy was in the Osborne home, it had to be allowed.

When he found out what Thomas Bennet wanted to do, Holderness thought it not such a bad idea. The Queen would like it, too. Raising the girls outside of London had great appeal. The King and Queen were both very protective of their daughters. The Queen had insisted on complete custody of Jane when the girl was ready to enter society, but as long as she was properly educated, protected and cared for, having the girl grow up in a small country town would be ideal. Holderness felt the same could be only healthy for Elizabeth. London society had, after all, done no good for Holderness' own daughter Amelia.

Leeds and he managed to actually talk over the situation. Leeds and Holderness would insist on being the formal guardians of Elizabeth. When she was grown, she would come into their households. They alone would have say about who she married. The King and Queen were already the formal guardians of Jane. Holderness, Leeds and the Royals would see that Longbourn was properly staffed and would control the servants, nurses, governess and later the masters of the girls. They were to be in every way raised to their stations, from comportment to manners to education to dress. Holderness and Leeds would supplement the dowry of Elizabeth and the Royals were providing the same for Jane.

Thomas Bennet did not want to be dictated to by these two men. However, he was clever enough to understand that he needed their approval to take his girls away. Not only that, these men were going to give him substantial funding. On top of providing for the butler; housekeeper; enough footmen, carriages and grooms to satisfy them; and all the girls private servants; Thomas would also receive one thousand pounds per annum for the needs of each girl, Jane's coming from the Queen and Elizabeth's shared between Holderness and Leeds. He also negotiated that they would find and pay for a good steward for Longbourn. Thomas did not know how to run an estate, nor did he want to learn. He was also to receive an additional five thousand pounds outright. The work on the new wings of Longbourn should be complete, but Thomas did not want to skimp on the furnishings nor the new stables he intended to build.

In the end, it was all agreed. Thomas signed over his rights as Elizabeth's guardian, just as he had done for Jane before she was born. Two large and new carriages, two nurses, the Bennet family of three and several other servants set out for the Longbourn estate.

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**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**December 9, 1811**

Thomas rubbed his fingers lovingly over the features of his dead wife. "Well my love, they are gone now. Our girls are gone. You would have been proud of the fine creatures they have become."

His eyes never left the miniature. Finally he brought it to his lips and kissed it. "Just you and I are left to share this house now."

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**Highlander Pub, Meryton**

**December 9, 1811**

A bewildered George Wickham stared down at the cards in his hand. This little game of whist had been going exactly as planned. Several pints had dulled the senses of his fellow soldiers. It was now time to lighten their pockets. The allowances that their families sent them would be put to much better use by George.

Now, suddenly he was confused. He had had a plan. Betting was heavy on this hand and George had a cunning win all worked out. But he could not remember it. He did not know which card he was supposed to play next. He had been setting it up all so carefully. And now – nothing. Frantically, he tried to pull the plan back into his mind. It was no good. He had lost it; lost track of it all.

Hoping he was keeping all the panic he felt out of his face, George pulled out a card and laid it down. The table roared with laughter. The hand was soon done. George was soon signing another marker and cheerfully ordering another round on him for his mates.

But as soon as he could gracefully do so, he was on his way to his rooms. What had happened? Never had something like this occurred before, at least not when George was sober enough to remember. Sleep. Maybe he just needed some sleep.

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	6. Chapter 6

**WARNINGS: 1) **The history notes today are all about venereal disease. Never a pleasant subject. Skip them if you wish. **2)** There is violence in the December 16 scene at Longbourn.

**History notes:**

**London Lock Hospital**: I have found it useful to think of the French disease as being a lot like leprosy. Yes syphilis did kill some victims quickly, but for the most part it was a long process with much unpleasantness before death.

In response to this monster that ran rampant through the population, in 1747 London Lock Hospital was founded just to take care of its victims.

As a matter of fact, the name Lock comes from the old leprosy hospitals. They had come to be called lock hospitals because the word 'locks' was what people called the rags that lepers used to cover their skin lesions. wiki/London_Lock_Hospital

I was surprised when I found that the hospital's first location was on Grosvenor Place. However, rest easy. Miss Bingley did not have a venereal disease hospital in her back yard. It is a very good distance from Grosvenor Place to Grosvenor Square.

**The Clap:** It is very unlikely that Wickham actually transmitted the French disease (syphilis) to Georgiana. He was in the tertiary stage at this point and should not have been contagious.

Remember from the story that Wickham has been complaining about his new pox. What he gave our poor girl was gonorrhea (and most likely chlamydia.) The results for Georgiana included Pelvic Inflammatory Disease.

Gonorrhea was known even earlier in history than was syphilis. Way back in 1161 the English Parliament passed a law intended to stop the spread of 'the perilous infirmity of burning.' In 1256 Louis IX was banishing people who had the affliction.

The common slang for this disease is the clap. For the origin of the name, the Online Etymology Dictionary gives us:

clap (n.)

"gonorrhea," 1580s, of unknown origin, perhaps from M.E. claper, from . clapoire, originally "rabbit burrow" but given a slang extension to "brothel" and also the name of a disease of some sort. In English originally also a verb, "to infect with clap." .?term=clap

There is an alternate theory for the origin of the name. I do not believe it. I cannot see men submitting to it. It has something to do with a man's most prized organ and things clapping together to push out infection.

**Redemption**

**Chapter 6**

**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**December 8, 1811**

Darcy snapped awake in the wee hours of the morn. His movements instantly woke Elizabeth. They met each other's eyes. Wordless they rose and donned gowns and robes. Opening the door to the hall, they found an alert footman on duty.

"Adam, any news?"

"Yes sir. Miss Darcy continues to rest with no return of fever. And sir, Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived last night."

Nodding their thanks, Darcy and Elizabeth proceeded to Georgiana's rooms. They both needed to see for themselves that she was still alright.

Quietly entering, they found Thomson and Akers awake while Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Jones slept on settees nearby. Both servants stood to allow their masters access to the bed. Elizabeth touched Georgiana's forehead and Darcy her hand. Sighing in relief, they watched the young girl sleep. Her breathing was calm and regular.

Darcy nodded his head to Thompson and then to the door. The servants followed their masters into the hall.

"She has rested comfortably since the fever broke. As you instructed, two of us are awake at all times. We will immediately come for you if there is any change."

Darcy nodded his approval and Elizabeth reached out to give Aker's hand a squeeze.

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Back in their rooms, Darcy and Elizabeth flew into each other arms. They held on tightly, both feeling great relief that Georgiana had survived.

Finally, Darcy spoke. "It appears her fever may truly be gone. Let us return to bed. Those who watch now will need much rest tomorrow."

"And we now have both Lady Matlock and her son." Elizabeth raised her eyebrow in question.

Darcy understood her concern. "He is a good man. He and his mother will want for no more than Georgiana's welfare. We do not have to think of entertaining guests."

"It is a relief."

Looking into her husband's eyes, Elizabeth caught her breath. She felt his arms tighten on her in an entirely different manner. One of his hands moved. He was slowly pulling the belt on her robe. Leaning over, he whispered. His breath was hot in her ear. "You are too awake, madam. I am afraid that you require some exercise so that you can get more sleep."

Elizabeth was mute. He was so close, so powerful and she could smell their earlier love on him. Then his mouth descended on her and his hands began to rove. When his lips moved down her neck to her shoulder and his fingers rasped over her nipple, there was only sensation. As always, when he touched her, she was truly lost.

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Adam the footman smiled when he heard the first muffled moans from the Master's chambers. It was very good that Mr. Darcy had brought home this wife.

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Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were awake again well before dawn. After having alternative servants help them dress, they made their way back to Georgiana's rooms. Both Thompson and Akers frowned that their masters had not called for their help, but knew well enough not to say anything.

After sending the four night watchers off to bed, Darcy remained with Georgiana while Elizabeth went off to deliver morning orders for the staff. Mrs. Reynolds had tried to insist that she was awake enough to take care of everything. However the good housekeeper soon learned that she, too, was not allowed to gainsay the Mistress.

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Colonel Fitzwilliam had slept later than normal. It had been a hard trip to Pemberley and then he had spent a few hours by the sleeping Georgiana's side. He may have overslept his habitual soldier's early dawn, but his soldier's appetite was present in full force. He dressed quickly and headed for the breakfast room. He wanted more than a tray in his rooms.

Entering, he found the room empty but for the footman. However, Pemberley's usual substantial breakfast was all laid out.

"Ah Mrs. Reynolds. Bless you."

The footman cleared his throat. "Begging pardon sir, but Mrs. Reynolds is abed. She was with Miss Darcy last night."

The colonel smiled. "Still I am grateful. She saw to all this before retiring."

Again the footman cleared his throat.

"What are you implying George? She did not? Then who?"

The footman was very familiar with Fitzwilliam. They had developed a sort of camaraderie when no one else was around. He looked smugly at the colonel.

"The new Mistress?"

The footman nodded, barely repressing his smile.

"Humph," Fitzwilliam mumbled under his breath. _Another one enamored with this country bride._ While he usually had faith in Darcy's judgment, these were not normal times. After all that had happened to Georgiana, Fitzwilliam was not long on trust. Also, this hasty marriage was way out of character for Darcy. Fitzwilliam had no confidence in all this praise. Surely the kitchen staff was only carrying out Mrs. Reynolds usual orders. Why was everyone so enchanted, so ready to lay every little good thing at the new mistress' feet, Fitzwilliam could not understand.

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Fitzwilliam entered through Georgiana's sitting room. He was able to approach the bedroom door unseen. Quietly he watched and listened.

"Oh, yes. A little more broth. I absolutely insist."

The woman speaking was pleasant enough looking but not beautiful. However, her voice was soft and musical. This must be Mrs. Darcy.

"Very good. Now just a little more. Three more sips and I will torture you no more."

Fitzwilliam frowned. Who was this woman to force Georgiana to anything? Then, he saw Georgiana smile_. At least that is good. _

Fitzwilliam took another step forward and saw his mother sitting on the other side of the bed. Lady Matlock's face was drawn and pale. She looked almost – horrified. _This is not good._

Elizabeth's voice drew his eyes back to the new Mrs. Darcy. "Lady Matlock. Come and help me. I think we should look over the breakfast tray and see if there is anything else that may tempt Miss Darcy."

Fitzwilliam watched as his mother slowly rose and followed Elizabeth over to a table holding the tray. A short and whispered conversation occurred, with Mrs. Darcy doing most of the talking. Finally Lady Matlock nodded. Elizabeth reached out and briefly squeezed the elder woman's arm. Lady Matlock put on a clearly false smile and returned to the bedside.

Fitzwilliam's frown turned into a scowl. What was this upstart doing? Why was his mother horrified? What had the chit said?

Elizabeth had prepared some tea for Georgiana and was returning to the bed when she stopped short. There was a man in uniform standing at the door. Undoubtedly it was the cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. He briefly nodded to her and then headed to the bedside.

"Georgiana dearest! I am so happy to see you awake and looking so well!" He reached for the girl's hand and kissed it.

Georgiana instantly recoiled and drew back her hand. She looked over to Elizabeth. Clearly the girl was frightened.

Elizabeth was at her side in a moment. Quickly setting the tea cup down, she grasped Georgiana's hands. It was not enough. Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed and put her arm around the girl. Gratefully Georgiana buried her face into Elizabeth's shoulder and clutched at her new sister.

Shock followed by fury raged through the colonel. _What the bloody hell? Who is this woman? How did she turn Georgiana against me?_

"Madam."

Whatever Fitzwilliam was about to say was lost. Lady Matlock stood and grabbed her son's arm. She met his eyes and shook her head. Fitzwilliam was, for the moment, silenced.

Elizabeth's gentle voice was heard. "Miss Darcy, Georgiana. It is alright. I know it is terrifying not to remember, but all will be well. This kind gentleman who just came in loves you very much. He is your cousin and with your brother, your guardian."

Doe like eyes looked up at Elizabeth. "My cousin?"

Elizabeth gently brushed a curl back from the girl's face. "Yes dearest. He had travelled long and hard to come to you. He cares for you very much."

Georgiana's face scrunched up in thought. "I have cousins. I do." Timidly she turned her face toward the colonel. She did not, however, let go her fierce hold on Elizabeth. "Which cousin are you?"

P&PP&PP&PP&P_

A still shocked Richard Fitzwilliam sat with Darcy. They were waiting for Mr. Jones to join them as soon as he finished examining Georgiana.

This same Mr. Jones was presently standing just outside the door of Darcy's study. In a few short days, he had come to respect the people that lived in this house. Even without that respect, he would have hesitated. The news he had to deliver no man should ever have to hear. Jones shrugged. _No matter. It is the way of the world. And what a sorry statement that is. _Straightening his shoulders, Jones firmly knocked.

P&PP&PP&PP&P

"Mr. Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam. I wish to speak candidly."

Both men nodded.

"First, I believe that the disease Miss Darcy has may not be the French disease, but another of the same sort. Not that this matters so much. The treatment is the same. We are fortunate that the fever did not take her. However, the infection is still with her and there is no guarantee fever will not return. I recommend that we begin at once to treat her with mercury. I want to have her in London for that. The safest place to treat her is Lock Hospital. Travel may be hard on her, but I will stay with her the whole time."

Jones stopped and met Darcy's and then Fitzwilliam's eyes. "You have both seen her and spoken with her today. You have seen that she may already be damaged from the fever. She may recover, but I must warn you that she may not. It may never get much better. Furthermore, I must be entirely honest with you. The mercury can make this worse. It is even sometimes fatal."

P&PP&PP&PP&P_

**Grosvenor Square, London**

**December 11, 1811**

Charles Bingley slowly awoke. He stretched his arms and his legs. It felt good not to be ill. He had come to three days ago covered in his own sick. It had been enough to stop his binge of drinking. The first day was spent in misery. The second was bearable. Yesterday he even had some appetite. Today he felt almost human again.

He knew he had been drinking to drown out thoughts of Jane. He also knew how foolish that was. He was in love, really in love_. She was too. Darcy must have been mistaken. _

Bingley's mind flew to a settee in Longbourn's drawing room. He had 'accidentally' let his finger brush against her arm. The blush had spread from her face all the way to her bosom. _She was not unaffected! _

The more he thought on it, the more sure he was. Of course Darcy had not seen the way Jane looked at him. _She is a lady! Those looks were only for me!_

_Blast Darcy. Blast Caroline and Louisa, too. I am returning to Longbourn. I do not care that the house has been closed. I will just stay at the inn until it can be opened again. Jane is the one for me._

He would take care of business today. He would shop for a ring for Jane. Then, he would set his solicitor to drawing up the settlement papers. _Let a messenger bring them to Netherfield. I have no intention of leaving Hertfordshire any time soon._

By tomorrow morning, he would be on the road to Longbourn.

P&PP&PP&PP&P_

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**December 12, 1811**

As Charles rode into Longbourn, he could hear that the whole place was in uproar. He rode toward the noise and around to the rear of the house. Wagons were everywhere, with a few carriages crowding the space. Trunks and bags were being loaded. It looked like most of the staff was outside in the middle of the fray. Somewhere in the distance he could hear Mrs. Bennet shrieking. Were the Bennets leaving? Moving? Going on some long trip?

No one seemed to pay him any mind. The usual stable boys were not to be seen. He finally found a boy, who for some coin, was willing to take care of his horse.

Charles made his way through back to the front door and knocked. There was no answer. Finally he opened the door and went into the house. No one was there, no Mr. Hill and no footmen. Well, there was nothing for it. If there was no one to announce him, he would just go in and announce himself. He made for the drawing room.

"Mr. Bingley! Whatever do you do here?"

Charles's eyes opened wide and he took a small step back at such a greeting from the youngest Bennet.

"I am come to call on Miss Bennet."

Lydia and Kitty looked at each other and burst out laughing. Charles was very sorry that they were the only two Bennets in sight. He saw nothing to do but to sit down until the girls regained their composure.

Finally Lydia looked at him. "Have you not heard the news?"

"No Miss Lydia. I am just now returned from London. I have not heard any news since the ball at Netherfield."

Both girls burst out laughing again, but Lydia started speaking very quickly.

"Oh! You have heard none of it! But Mr. Darcy is your friend. Surely you know about that!"

A very confused Charles Bingley shook his head.

"La! Longbourn has been a very exciting place since your ball. First Lizzy elopes with Mr. Darcy of all people! And what do you think happens next? The Queen! Yes the Queen sends people to take Jane away. Of all things! Can you believe it? And now all this! Papa says the servants were Jane's and Elizabeth's. And now they are almost all going away!" Suddenly Lydia huffed. "It is so unfair. They have always had more servants and better clothes. Why should that be? Why should they take my servants now? I even had to wait for breakfast today!"

Lydia continued to rattle on, but Charles did not hear. Jane was gone. Taken away by the Queen? Darcy and Miss Elizabeth eloped? The servants belonged to Jane and Elizabeth? None of this made any sense. Dazedly Charles rose, said something he hoped was a farewell and made his way out into the hall.

Mary found him still standing there when she came down from settling her mother in her rooms.

"Mr. Bingley?"

Her voice brought Charles back to the present. "Miss Mary. Forgive me. I am confused. I had come to call on Miss Bennet. Is it true? Is she gone?"

Mary Bennet took pity on him. She led him to the morning room and told him all she knew.

P&PP&PP&PP&P_

Bingley decided to ride back to London. Before he had gotten far, he knew it was a mistake. His mind was too weak. He would end up in Wales if he was not careful. He took rooms at the first reputable looking inn that he came across. He ate his dinner but did not taste a thing. As he climbed into the bed, all he could think of was that Jane was goddaughter to the Queen. All hope was gone. Surely he could never marry his angel now. The son of a tradesman would not even be allowed through the door of the Queen's House.

P&PP&PP&PP&P_

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**December 16, 1811**

Lieutenant George Wickham had earlier carefully arranged his hair to cover the lesion on the side of his face. There had been a little bulbous thing there for some time. However, now it was noticeable and ugly. No matter. Surely Lydia would see nothing once his seduction had begun.

He consciously pulled his hair forward more as he waited in the shrubbery. The little tart was late. Wickham's anger, ever near the surface now, grew. This whole business was taking entirely too long. The fool of a girl should have succumbed to his charms long ago.

He heard her giggling long before she appeared in front of him. He grimaced. _Too much of an idiot to keep quiet while attempting an assignation! _But George quickly remembered his purpose and her dugs. He schooled his features to present only charm, delight and passion.

Moments later she was in his arms. Moments after that, he was lost to his own desires and allowing his hands free rein over her charms. He did not keep enough self-awareness to stop her from burying her hands in his hair. His own eyes closed, he also did not notice that Lydia's were wide open.

Having finally decided to allow George his way with her, Miss Lydia was not about to be shy. She wanted to feel and see everything. Thus, when she pushed his deep brown locks from his face, she immediately saw the oozing sore.

Lydia had not her eldest sisters' bravery in front of illness. No. She was entirely repulsed by it in all its forms. All her passions for Mr. Wickham were squelched in the face of what she saw. She immediately pushed him away. She wiped her hands on her dress and then her arm across her mouth.

Her would be lover had not registered her revulsion and immediately grabbed her and pulled her back to him. Then Lydia began to really struggle; pushing, hitting and kicking him. All Wickham's previous anger and frustration reared. He struck her. It was a forceful hit. Lydia stumbled and fell, hitting her head against a bench.

A stunned Wickham was quickly brought to the reality before him: a non-moving Lydia and the spreading of blood. Coward that he was, he ran.

The closer that he came to Meryton, the more he realized that his sojourn in this little town was at and end. If Miss Lydia did not live, he would be hung. Well, maybe not. He could brazen it out. After all, he was reasonably sure that she had not shared information about their rendezvous with anyone.

At once, Wickham knew it did not matter. There were other pressing concerns. His gambling had failed him. Debts of honor were pressing and would not long be held at bay. No. He must leave.

In his mind's eye he saw both Denny and Chamberlayne as they put away their cash. He had certainly been observant as to their hiding places. At this time of day both men would be out training recruits. Indeed Wickham had made an excuse to avoid such duty himself.

He could take their money and a horse. By the time he was missed, he would be far away.

_Far away._ His thoughts traveled to Pemberley. There he knew he would find his wife. Darcy's sudden elopement had constantly been on his mind. What had it to do with Georgiana? Is there a child coming? _My child._

By the time that Wickham had reached the rear of his lodgings, his whole plan was in place. He would head to Derbyshire and he would see his wife.

P&PP&PP&PP&P_

Mary Bennet had been greatly affected by the uproars at Longbourn. Long dismissed as too plain by her mother and too insipid by her father, Mary had lived in a world of pious contemplation.

Jane's removal had been shocking, but what had opened Mary's eyes had been Elizabeth's elopement. This sister had long been admired by Mary. While she found Elizabeth sometimes too lighthearted about serious matters, Mary had never failed to see Elizabeth's devotion to duty, especially to the tenants and the poor. While sermonizing about Elizabeth's attitude toward their mother, Mary had secretly admired Elizabeth's good treatment of all others, no matter their station. Even with their mother, Elizabeth was never disrespectful to her face.

Indeed her sister Elizabeth behaved as a good and God-fearing soul. She did so by nature, not by design. She was never looking for thanks or praise. At the same time, Elizabeth was happy with life, readily enjoying books, walks, dancing, well everything. Mary found much to admire. That such a sister would elope had caused a crack in Mary's silent world.

The sudden departure of so many servants had just reinforced the fact that the world was more than Mary had ever seen it to be.

She found herself observing more of everything about her and one thing had especially caught her attention. Her boisterous sister Lydia had become quiet and contemplative. Mary found this change suspicious and had set out to discover its cause.

Thus she had been keenly aware of all things Lydia and heard the closing of that sister's door at a time when the normally lazy girl would still be asleep. Stealthily following Lydia down the servants' stairs, Mary heard the back door close. Hurrying now, she managed to get outside and saw Lydia rapidly heading for the shrubbery.

As soon as Lydia disappeared behind the greenery, Mary decided to move to a new vantage point. She needed to see if Lydia reappeared on the other side and headed toward Meryton.

After watching for several minutes that seemed like hours, Mary could only conclude that Lydia had stayed inside the shrubbery. Hoping against hope that this wild, youngest sister was not meeting someone, Mary shifted her weight from foot to foot. _Foolish._ Mary did not have her boots on such a cold morning.

All thoughts of cold feet flew as Mary saw a red coat burst from the shrubbery and race toward town_. At least they did not meet for long. _Satisfied that her sister was safe for the moment, Mary returned to the house to await Lydia. There would be a confrontation.

Half an hour later Lydia had still not come home. Warm boots on her feet, Mary set out to find her wayward sister.

"Lydia. Lydia! Are you in here?"

No answer came. Winding her way to the center of the shrubbery, Mary saw her and screamed. Suddenly Mary became aware that most of the servants were now gone. It was unlikely that anyone would have heard her scream. She could not both stay with her sister and run for help. Bending over Lydia, Mary was relieved that she was still breathing.

_First stop the bleeding._ The wound was easy to see. It actually looked like the bleeding had already stopped. To make sure, Mary ripped her petticoat and tied the fabric firmly around Lydia's head. The answering moan was almost music to Mary's terrified ears.

"Wait here. Do not move. I will run for help." Fairly sure that Lydia heard none of that, Mary nonetheless fled toward the house.

P&PP&PP&PP&P

The apothecary and Sir William Lucas, the current magistrate, had come and gone. The interviews, her mother's screeches, changing her clothes, all these were a blur. The only thing that Mary could think of as she sat by an unconscious Lydia's bed was guilt. Mary should have followed Lydia straight into the shrubbery. Better yet, she should have stopped her before she even left the house.

A vision of the water turning pink as Mary had washed her hands earlier floated into the poor girl's mind. Mary reached out for Lydia's hand.

P&PP&PP&PP&P_

By the time that Lydia regained consciousness and identified her attacker as Wickham, the man was long gone.

P&PP&PP&PP&PP&P

As the days went by, Mary found herself in a most surprising situation. She was managing Lydia's sick room and Mrs. Bennet's fits of nerves. She was meeting callers, the steward and tenants. Now that Netherfield was closed, she was the one who brought in the Nicholls to replace the Hills. Person after person came to Mary for decisions large and small. Mary Bennet was running the new Longbourn.

P&PP&PP&PP&P

**December 16, 1811**

**St. James Square, London**

"Welcome home, Your Grace."

George Osborne only nodded his greeting as all his outerwear was removed. He was tired. It had been a long and fruitless trip. He had known that Elizabeth needed the truth about her heritage. It must be done in person and not by some emissary.

The best he could figure was that the Darcys must have been arriving in London at about the same time that he had set out for Derbyshire. _All those wasted days. _

"Her Grace?"

The good butler knew the meaning of the Duke's question. After many long years, the Duchess was again increasing.

"She is well, sir. I believe she is presently in her rooms."

"Very good. Send bath water and a tray up for me. If anyone wants me, they can wait until tomorrow."

P&PP&PP&PP&PP&PP&P_

**Grosvenor Square, London**

**December 17, 1811**

"Charles, I insist that you call on Mr. Darcy today. What will he think, being so ignored by his closest friend?"

"I have told you, Caroline. The knocker is not up."

"The knocker! What has that to do with anything? Of course he wishes you to come."

_And you wish it because you know you could never get in with the knocker down. _"Enough!"

Caroline huffed, but she was quiet. Charles had been in a foul mood ever since he quit all that drunkenness. Seeing she would not get her way today, she reached for the papers. Perhaps there was some news that would be distracting.

Charles watched his sister as she read the gossip sheets. _She looks like a predator going for some juicy morsel. Disgusting. _

A little smirk formed on Caroline's face and she took the paper and left the room. Undoubtedly she was off to share some tidbit with Louisa.

Charles sighed. Caroline's calm reaction put paid to what he had wanted. He had really hoped that an announcement of Darcy's marriage would have been in the news. Maybe it would come soon. Then he would call at Darcy House and he had no intention of letting Caroline know about it. He needed to see Darcy and his new wife. Charles needed to hear some news of Jane.

P&PP&PP&PP&PP&P


	7. Chapter 7

Again forgive me for being behind on the comments thread. Real life is making much trouble at the moment, but should be better soon. Believe me, every comment is like a gift and I treasure them. Still, I promised a post once a week and I have let that have priority over commenting.

Thank you FeliciaHM and Buzzy. You guys are great.

**History notes:**

**The Queen's House: **In the fullness of time, this would become Buckingham Palace. For now, it was the London residence of the Queen.

**Prinny:** George Augustus Frederick of Hanover, Prince Regent at the time of our story and later to be King George IV, was referred to as Prinny by those in his close circle.

From everything that I have read, King George III and Queen Charlotte did their best to raise their children with education, frugally, in pious manner and away from the normal excesses of European courts. To say that things did not go as planned is a bit of an understatement. More on this later, but for now I will just say that many of the children's lives read much like soap operas, with plenty of drama everywhere.

Leading the way was Prince George. His rebellion against his parents' ways was clear in his early teenage years. Interestingly enough, it seems to be the absence of one of the characters in our story that let the young Prince feel his power. In the fall of 1774, the Earl of Holderness took a leave of absence as governor of the Princes. He was having health problems and he went to the continent for a cure. When he returned in the spring of 1778, he found a household of full of disobedience. A life of indulgence and excess had begun for the Prince and he was not about to let his old governor return him to the Spartan existence that the King desired for him. Indeed Holderness ended up resigning. The new governor pretended to the King that all was proceeding well.1 However, by age 18 a life of pleasures was well under way. The Prince spent 10,000 pounds on clothing alone in that year. By age 22 he was 160,000 pounds in debt.2

You can read a little more about the Prinny and his buddies in excess by clicking on footnote number 2 below.

1. Fraser, Flora; Princesses, The Six Daughters of George III: Alfred A. Knopf, New York, 2004, pages 44 and 48.

2. w w w . georgianindex . net / Prinny / prinnys_ set . html

**Redemption**

**Chapter 7**

December 17, 1811  
St. James Square, London

George Osborne, His Grace the Duke of Leeds, was still in his rooms as he sealed the missive to his grandfather. If the old man felt well enough to come, they would summon Elizabeth here. If not, they would all travel to Sion Hill.

He rose and, missive in hand, opened his door.

"Ah, James. This is for the Earl of Holderness. Send it now and have our man wait for an answer."

Then Leeds made his way down to his study. Once inside, he moved to stand before a painting that hung above the mantle. One look at this image and his niece would easily know the truth. Elizabeth had her mother's hair and eyes_. I hope the trip here today is not too much for Grandfather. _Yes. It was unfortunate that he was asking Holderness to travel, but Elizabeth should learn the truth here, at her real home.

Leeds attention returned to the painting. How he still missed her after all these years. Not even a year his elder, she had always seemed so much older and wiser than he was. Thinking of his own son and daughter, Leeds mused that perhaps it was just the way of little boys and girls, that females always matured a little faster. He unconsciously shrugged his shoulders. Whatever the reason, Elizabeth had always been the big sister. In a world of servants, nurses, governesses, and younger siblings she had been the one who really took care of him.

Until he was seven and had been moved to his own schoolroom with his own masters, they had been always together. Leeds smiled. They were together after that, too. No matter what the rest of the world intended, both George and Elizabeth had made a great deal of trouble over the separation. In the end, Elizabeth got to share George's masters. It was unconventional for a girl's education, but Elizabeth had done very well. His sister was very bright.

Nonetheless, they were torn apart when George had been sent to Westminster School at age eleven. It had been much harder after that but they still had holidays and their letters. Then, Elizabeth had been taken to Court. Leeds closed his eyes in pain.

**Darcy House, London**

**December 17, 1811**

As his hands ran over her firm buttocks and pulled her against him, it did not occur to Darcy that he was no longer feeling guilt. After Jones had given them dire news about Georgiana, Darcy had tried to withdraw from Elizabeth. He could not reconcile feeling such pleasure while Georgiana suffered so much.

Thank heavens she had not allowed it.

_**Pemberley, Derbyshire**_

_**December 9, 1811**_

_Elizabeth woke in the wee hours of the morning to an empty bed. She rose and donned her robe. She smiled slightly to herself. Waking with her nightgown still in place was not at all normal. However, last night Fitzwilliam had been so still and pained. She just held him while they fell asleep. Georgiana's condition was just so overwhelming._

_She found Darcy right where she knew he would be, sitting by his sister's bed. Elizabeth sat next to him for a while, just holding his hand. Eventually, he spoke. "We should get some sleep."_

_Back in the master's chambers, he was stiff and distant, even when she snuggled next to him._

_Darcy was furious with himself. Even as he sat by Georgiana's bed, he ached to go to Elizabeth. He wanted her. He wanted the love, comfort and oblivion he found in her arms. How could he think of his own pleasures as Georgina lay suffering? Even now, the closeness of Elizabeth's warm body had him stiff and hard. It would not do. "Elizabeth, I have been thinking. I believe it best if we sleep in separate beds." In all his anger and disgust at himself, the statement came out very harsh indeed._

_His tone and his words were like a slap. A long silence followed, with Elizabeth's mind flying in many different directions. Finally her mind settled on one truth. She had mistaken him many times in the past. If she wanted to truly understand what he was thinking, he would have to tell her._

"_Why?"_

_The question seemed to echo through the cavernous chamber._

"_Elizabeth, you must know. How can I so selfishly indulge while Georgiana lies so ill? I cannot."_

_Elizabeth was silent for a long time. She tried to imagine how she would feel should it be Jane who lay so ill. _

"_Fitzwilliam, I am thinking of my Jane being in Georgiana's situation. A fortnight ago, I would not have imagined seeking your arms at such a time. Now… Well, now I cannot imagine being without them. Where would I find comfort? How would I be able to face her fate, knowing that I did it alone? Where would I find the strength to be cheerful for her, day after horrible day? Yes. I do know that somehow I would carry on. However, I cannot but believe that I would be more dead than alive while I did." _

_Darcy did not move. He had heard her words, but could not really think about them. His guilt was overwhelming. Georgiana's condition was his fault, all his fault. He did not deserve comfort. _

_Finally, the long and frozen silence was too much for her. Elizabeth rose and put on her robe. She walked around to Darcy's side of the bed and took his statute-like hand into her own. "If it is truly your wish, I shall go to my rooms. But husband, know this: While it is painful to say, Georgiana may forever be like a child. If we are to make her life a good and full one, we must be strong. Can we do that without each other?"_

_Elizabeth bent and placed a kiss on his hand. Then she left._

_Elizabeth lay in bed, fighting the need to go back to him. She had almost resolved to do so when their adjoining door opened._

_In a moment he was next to her, pulling her into his arms. _ _"Oh Elizabeth, forgive me. I know what you said is true. I knew it back at Netherfield. Even though I was half in love already, I proposed to you because I knew. I could never face this alone. Not Georgiana. Not my baby sister. What a fool I am! How could I think of going on without you to make me strong?"_

_He kissed the top of her head and then maneuvered to reach her face. His kissed her eyes and then her salty cheeks where her tears fell. His arms pulled her full against him and he whispered in her ear. "I have been so alone, nearly all my life. Don't let me. Please don't let me. I will be foolish again. I just know it."_

**Darcy House, London**

**December 17, 1811**

The sound of knocking intruded and Darcy wrenched his lips away from his wife's. Resting his forehead against hers, he fought to control his breathing. He should have left word not to be disturbed unless it was urgent.

Intending to give that order now, he gave a final squeeze to Elizabeth's bottom and went to the study door. He opened it only slightly. His wife needed privacy.

"Begging your pardon, sir. This has just come from the Duke of Leeds. His man is waiting for an answer."

Darcy nodded, took the missive and closed the study door. He opened the note, read it through once and looked at his wife. He shook his head and read the note through again.

"Elizabeth, I did not know that you were acquainted with the Duke of Leeds."

She looked at him in confusion. Darcy walked over to her and handed her the note.

_December 17_

_Osborne House_

_Darcy,_

_We are so pleased that you have deigned to return to town with my ward. We shall expect you and Mrs. Darcy here at five today. Of course you are to stay and dine._

_Leeds_

"His ward?"

Darcy looked at Elizabeth's confused face. "George Osborne is the Duke of Leeds. I expect that he is serious in claiming you as his ward."

"But, I do not even know him!" Elizabeth paused, lost in thought. "I have seen letters from someone named Leeds. My father had them often over the years. I questioned him once and he said it was an old friend that he placed chess with by mail."

After a pause, Elizabeth spoke in an almost whisper. "My mother. Somehow this must be connected with my mother." Elizabeth looked up at her husband with pleading eyes. "Oh, Fitzwilliam, no one would tell me anything of her. All my life, no matter who or how often I asked, no one would speak of her. Oh, say that we will go this evening."

Darcy felt her excitement and her worry. He took his wife into his arms. "Of course we shall go. Not that there is much choice anyway."

Elizabeth heard the smile in his voice and raised her eyebrow.

"Read the note again, Lizzy. We are not so much invited as we are summoned. Who are we to gainsay a duke?"

**Grosvenor Square, London**

**December 17, 1811**

Relief surged through Madeline Gardiner as she read the Duke's note. Elizabeth was here in London and they would be able to see her today. While Elizabeth's letters had given assurance that she was well and happy with her marriage, Mrs. Gardiner would not rest easy until she saw her niece.

As soon as the elopement became known, Madeline had felt that it was only right to write at least some of the truth to Elizabeth. For that matter, she had wanted to tell Elizabeth the truth for years now. As ever, she had been forbidden to do so. The Duke and the Earl would tell her now, but they wanted to do it person. Madeline had been able to see the merit in that.

Now, there was Jane' new situation to worry over. Madeline knew that they would need the Duke's and the Earl's help in order to even see Jane.

Mr. Gardiner had been successful indeed. Their beautiful new home was testament to that. The Gardiners knew that it was the patronage of the girls' guardians that had given them the connections so necessary for expanding their trade. Neither Gardiner felt able to question Jane's situation at present, nor were they able to insist on seeing her. There was just too much at stake. However, they both knew that they would risk anyone's wrath should things continue as they were. For now they were hoping for an easier solution, one that did not risk anyone's ire. After all, it had scarce been over a week since Jane was taken. Surely once the Duke, the Earl and Elizabeth were all working together, Jane would be allowed to see her family.

Madeline hurried over to her desk and wrote out two notes. As soon as they were sealed, she handed them to the footman. One note went to her husband at his warehouse, the other to the Duke's waiting messenger confirming their attendance at dinner.

**The Queen's House, London**

**December 17, 1811**

Only Barlett's years of training kept her from sighing as she laid eyes on her mistress. Jane sat on the third floor window seat, looking blanking out into the world beyond this house.

She had been taken from Longbourn and, from Barlett's viewpoint, unceremoniously dumped at this house. Lady Harcourt had been kind in calling every day, but the isolation was severe. They all waited on the Queen's pleasure and she was now at Windsor.

Worse still was the slump of Jane's shoulders every afternoon. Without fail Jane would seek out the butler and ask if there had been any letters for her. Without fail the butler answered in the negative.

Bartlett knew all about the letters. Jane had written one or two each day. She wrote to her mother, her father, the new Mrs. Darcy at Pemberley, her sisters at Longbourn and her Aunt Gardiner here in town. Poor Miss Bennet could not know that none of these letters had ever gone out. Per instructions, they all lay in drawer in a desk downstairs. The Queen wanted to look over her ward's correspondence, at least in these early days of her residence here. However, the Queen had not come from Windsor yet and so the letters lay.

There was no way for Bartlett to know if Miss Bennet had received any letters. Those would have seen the same fate as the outgoing mail. Bartlett had always been a loyal servant to the Queen, but this was hard to stomach. Miss Bennet's mail should not be withheld.

_Poor, dear Jane is so isolated and alone_. Bartlett chastised herself. There was no reason to grow morose. It had just been one week and the Queen had to have been as surprised as anyone about the sudden disruptions at Longbourn. This was Her Majesty after all. She had many demands on her time. Heaven knows that the trouble with the King might be holding her at Windsor. Patience was called for. Surely Her Majesty would come soon or would call for Miss Bennet to come to her.

In the meantime, Bartlett sincerely hoped that it was not just Mr. Bennet who knew of Miss Bennet's new location. If so, the old monster would probably not tell anyone else, just for the sport of it. _No. That is not fair. He has always been kind to Jane. Surely he will at least let Mrs. Darcy and Mrs. Gardiner know_. _Perhaps at least the Duke or the Earl will come soon. No. At least not until they have spoken with the Queen or the Regent. Mrs. Gardiner? Would she call here? Well, at least when Miss Elizabeth finds out what has happened, she will come to her sister. Surely Miss Bennet will be allowed visitors. Yes. All will be well. And I must remain cheerful. I must help Miss Bennet's spirits all I can. _

In her most pleasant voice, Bartlett addressed her mistress. "Miss Bennet, are you ready for tea now? Shall you take it here or downstairs?"

**Darcy House, London**

**December 17, 1811**

The newlyweds had retired to their chambers to rest for a while before dressing for the evening. Darcy lay stretched out on the bed, his arm behind his head. He was lost in his thoughts. He knew that Jane and Elizabeth were said to be from Mr. Bennet's first wife. Elizabeth knew nothing of her except that she was a gentlewoman from the north. In truth, Darcy had not thought much on the matter. He had simply been relieved that Elizabeth was unrelated to the loud and improper Mrs. Bennet. That Elizabeth might have exalted relations had not crossed his mind.

Now, however, he was remembering all the ways in which Elizabeth and Jane always seemed something very above their sisters. They dressed as well as any proper lady in Town, better than most. Even Caroline Bingley had only been able to criticize their lack of ornamentation. To Darcy that had not been a failing. Their younger sisters, however, were dressed in a much more countrified manner. Then there was the way they handled themselves. The comportment of the eldest Misses Bennet was impeccable. They sat, walked, spoke and even breathed as if they had been born to the highest circles. They lacked only the arrogance that was so common. Again, this was no failing in Darcy's eyes. Of course, they were gentry. Even if as only Mr. Bennet's daughters, they were gentlewomen. But something more had to be at play here. The younger daughters had possessed none of this. Had the eldest had a governess and the younger gone without? Surely it was not only breeding, but also education. _Who_ Elizabeth's and Jane's mother was may have played a strong role here.

"Elizabeth, did you have a governess? Masters? Did you go to school? What of your younger sisters?"

At first Elizabeth just frowned at him. But then the import of his questions came through.

"Yes. You are right. Jane and I had a different upbringing from that of our sisters. Our governess paid little attention to the younger ones. No, no school, but we had masters. Jane and I had many, many masters. The younger ones did not. And, the two of us spent much time in London. Oh, why did I not see this before? Our clothes, our jewels, our education, our pin money… Oh, Fitzwilliam! Jane and I always had better and more of everything. I always thought it natural because we were older, but you are right. The younger girls were treated very differently. Our mother. It must be our mother. Oh!" She kicked at the covers. "How is it connected to the Duke of Leeds?"

Darcy smiled and not only at her pouted frustration. He ran his eyes over her skin. Her kick of the covers had left him with a very nice view.

"Well, we shall perhaps find something out this evening." His voice was husky.

Elizabeth turned and met his eyes. There was no more discussion for some time.

**St. James Square, London**

**December 17, 1811**

As they walked up the steps to Osborne House, Darcy looked over at his beautiful bride. Under her cloak, her neck was adorned with the Darcy emeralds that he had given her on their wedding day. She wore the cream silk gown from their wedding. She was so elegant. Suddenly Darcy frowned. Her clothing. Elegant she may be, but she needed the wardrobe of a wife. He must see to it as soon as possible.

He saw that she also had a slight frown on her face. He imagined that it not only stemmed from the mysteries of her mother and the words 'my ward,' but also from Darcy's earlier confession that he and Elizabeth might be distantly related.

"_Elizabeth, there is something that you should know. As far as I am aware, it had been more than thirty years since a Darcy has been invited to dine at Osborne House."_

_Her raised eyebrow bade him to continue._

"_The current Duke's mother was the former Amelia Darcy; daughter of Robert Darcy, the Earl of Holderness. They had been married a short time, maybe five years, when Amelia abandoned her husband and her small children. She ran off with her lover."_

_Elizabeth paled, thinking "Is that why I am a ward? Am I the illegitimate child of Amelia and her lover?"_

"_What year was that?" she managed to squeak._

"_Over thirty years ago. The current Duke's father divorced her. As far as I know, he severed all Darcy ties."_

_Elizabeth was not yet calmed. She thought, "She still could have had Jane and me later."_

"_What happed to Amelia?"_

"_She married her lover. They had a daughter together, Augusta Byron. Amelia died with that birth." _

_Relief swept through Elizabeth and some of her playfulness returned. "So, Mr. Darcy tell me, just how closely are you related to the infamous Lady Amelia?"_

"_Wench!" He made to pinch her thigh, but she scrambled away. Then he became serious and answered her question. "Our Darcy lines diverged long ago, even centuries ago. However, cousins do marry cousins, so the relationship may not be as distant as that implies. At any rate, Darcy males have always been few in number. All of us that share the name call each other cousin. You will see. The Duke of Leeds is half Darcy. He will call me cousin tonight."_

_Elizabeth answered with an impertinent smile. "And if I turn out to be related to His Grace? Perhaps my connections are much more inferior than you have been led to believe, cousin."_

_He good-naturedly growled as he came after her. They really were going to have to stop all this and dress for dinner. However, neither of them thought about that until much later._

Darcy's memories caused a blush on his face. Then he felt his wife's hand quiver a bit. Her discomfort drove every other thought away. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before he reached for the knocker. She relaxed. He donned his Darcy mask in preparation for whatever awaited them inside.

It was good that the mask was in place because Darcy was certainly taken back at what happened after they were announced to the occupants of the drawing room. Elizabeth let go his arm and flew forward.

"Grandfather Robert! Uncle George! What a surprise! Are you to dine with the Duke also?"

Elizabeth hugged the Duke of Leeds who hugged her back and kissed her cheek. Then she went to Holderness, kissed his cheek, knelt down beside him, and took his hands. "Grandfather Robert. It has been so long. How are you?"

"Elizabeth, my beauty. Let me look at you. How you have grown."

"Yes I have and I have a husband now. Let me introduce you."

Elizabeth, a glowing smile on her face, went back to Darcy, took his hand and brought him forward. "Grandfather Robert, Uncle George, this is my husband Fitzwilliam Darcy. Fitzwilliam, I am so happy to have you meet…"

She stopped and looked at both her grandfather and her uncle. Suddenly she felt foolish. She did not know their full names. She had never known their full names. As a child, she had asked again and again. It became a game that no one would tell her. Sometime over the years, she had stopped asking. But she had always known that they were not really her grandfather and her uncle. They were just good friends of her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner. The two gentlemen came to visit often when Elizabeth and Jane were in town. Early on she had been encouraged to call them Grandfather Robert and Uncle George, even though they were no relation. Over the years, she had come to love both as dearly as if they really were her blood.

Now she was here, in this stranger's house. Summoned by the Duke of Leeds and called by him his ward. What had Grandfather Robert and Uncle George to do with all this?

Elizabeth's grip tightened on Darcy's hand.

"Gentlemen. I see that my wife is familiar with both of you. Perhaps the time has come for you to really introduce yourselves." It was a bold statement for an untitled man to make to these two. However, Darcy was most displeased. These two men had obviously known Elizabeth for a very long time and she had no idea who they were. Darcy had little patience for games and certainly no patience for games that might be at the expense of his wife. He would have answers.

Leeds pulled himself taller and stared at Darcy. The Duke's back was up at being spoken to in such a way.

However, Holderness saw it and calmed the situation. "Stand down, Grandson. Fitzwilliam is right. It is past time for introductions. Elizabeth dearest, we will explain all. Come and sit by me."

Elizabeth came to the settee closet to Holderness' chair. However, she still held to Darcy's hand. He looked over at the Duke for permission to sit and the now calmed man nodded. Leeds came to take a chair nearby.

"Elizabeth, I am Robert Darcy, the Earl of Holderness. This is George Osborne, His Grace the Duke of Leeds. He really is your uncle and I really am your great-grandfather."

Slowly and as gently as possible, the two guardians unfolded Elizabeth's story for her. She was the daughter of Elizabeth Osborne, the elder sister of the Duke of Leeds. Her grandmother was the infamous Amelia Darcy; only child of Robert Darcy, the Earl of Holderness.

"But then you are my family. There must be others I do not know. Have I more aunts and uncles? Cousins? Why did you send me away? Why have I never been told?"

Darcy was no longer content with holding Elizabeth's hand. He put his arm around and pulled her closer. She must feel terrible at having been so separated, so apparently rejected by her family.

Leeds came to kneel in front of her and took one of her hands. "Shh. Shh. Hush. It was not like that. You were not sent away. We very much wanted you with us. Haven't your Grandfather Robert and I always been parts of your life? There is something that happened that made things turn out this way. There is more that you need to know. It will be difficult to hear, but you need to understand."

With Darcy's arm around her and her hand held by Uncle George, Elizabeth was brave enough to nod. The story continued.

Elizabeth's heart broke for her mother. Put upon at such a young age and by the mad King! She must have been terrified. Then understanding came to Elizabeth. Jane. Jane was the daughter of the King.

Holderness saw the look on Elizabeth's pale face. "Leeds, get her a brandy."

A few sips of the strong liquid brought a little color back into Elizabeth's face. "Jane. Poor Jane. She surely does not know."

"She may soon. The Queen was Jane's guardian. Queen Charlotte was very upset when all this happened. She has always kept secluded and pious households. The idea that one of her young ladies should have been so importuned by His Majesty was appalling to her. She has always intended to have Jane at court with her when Jane came of age. She felt a very strong obligation to tend to Jane's upbringing and to see her well settled when the time came."

"Is that why we were sent away? For secrecy? For Jane's safety? And what of my father? He is my father, is he not?"

"Yes. Thomas Bennet is your father. When my sister was found to be with child, she needed a husband. Your father is the fifth son of the Earl of Arlington."

Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up at that. _Is nothing how it seemed?_

"He agreed to marry Elizabeth. You should know, child… It will be a comfort for you to know that I believe they fell truly in love. You were the result of that love."

The Earl of Holderness picked up the tale. "After you mother died, your father was distraught. He blamed society for your mother having been injured by the King. He wanted to raise you girls away from all the pressures and all the hypocrisies. After what had happened to my own daughter Amelia and to your mother, none of us could argue with him. Society had certainly not served them well. Perhaps a life in the country, away from it all, would be a much better way to grow up."

The Earl looked into Elizabeth's eyes. "I, for one, could not be more proud of how you have turned out, my dear. You are magnificent."

"We have been your guardians all these years. We have seen to your comforts and your education. We have tried to do the best job that we could while still complying with our agreement that you would grow up outside of society. We never saw any way to reveal the truth to you without bringing you into the very spheres that Thomas was so insistent not be a part of your life. You have always been meant to come to us as soon as you came of age."

Leeds paused to look menacingly at Darcy. "And we were to be the ones approached if you wanted to marry before that."

"Then why did my father refuse Fitzwilliam? Should he not have been sent to you?"

"Yes. He should have. I have not yet spoken to your father about his behavior in this. However, it was one of the reasons why the Queen insisted that Jane come to her now. Elizabeth, after your elopement, Jane was brought to London. She is presently at The Queen's House."

"Oh! Then she must know."

"I think not yet. I believe that she has only been told that she is the Queen's goddaughter and that she was always meant to go to the Queen when she was of age."

"Jane's temperament is another reason why we did not tell you of your heritage before now. She is such a gentle creature. None of us could countenance her knowing the story of her birth until she was old enough to deal with it."

Elizabeth relaxed a little. She could understand how they all had felt. More importantly, she could feel the care and concern that they had for her. Questions flew through her head.

"My Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, they have known it all for all these years, have they not?"

"Yes. Thank heavens they are such good people. It made it very easy for us to see you in town and to still not betray our agreements with your father. I have come to respect and like them very much. They will be here later and will join us for dinner. Please do not be too hard on them for not telling you everything. We forbade them."

The conversation turned easier. Elizabeth was delighted to see her mother's portrait and to hear Uncle George's stories about her. When the Gardiners joined them, Elizabeth felt even more loved. It was a lot to take in, but Elizabeth knew they would all help her.

More practical concerns were also discussed. A wedding announcement had not yet been put in the paper for Darcy and Elizabeth. The Duke of Leeds and the Earl of Holderness were both insistent that they would put in the announcement. That would do much to solidify Elizabeth's standing in the Ton. It would signal the world that two more great houses stood behind Elizabeth. Any scandal from elopement should be small.

When the men separated after dinner, Darcy felt compelled to tell the two peers about Georgiana's marriage. The two men were putting their names behind Elizabeth and they were entitled to know the additional scandal that was surely to come.

To Darcy's surprise, both men stood behind the decisions that he had made. Georgiana had been tricked by a scoundrel and Darcy had taken her away from him. The powerful houses of Leeds and Holderness would join the house of Darcy to try to turn gossip to sympathy for the poor girl.

Mr. Gardiner was nowhere near as influential as the other men in the room. However, he was privy to much talk in Town and could keep an ear open for trouble.

All the men agreed that Georgiana's present illness would be kept secret if possible.

Jane's welfare was a top concern. Leeds would visit Prinny and see what could be done to reunite her with them.

As soon as their carriage left Osborne House, Darcy pulled his wife onto his lap and held her. They were both quiet on the way home. This evening should have been overwhelming, but somehow they were both content. Their little world of comfort and love had grown a little larger tonight.


	8. Chapter 8

**History notes:**

**The Ratcliffe Highway Murders: **"The first attack took place on 7 December 1811, at 29 Ratcliffe Highway, in the home behind a linen draper's shop, on the south side of the street, between Cannon Street Road and Artichoke Hill. Ratcliffe Highway is the old name for the road now called The Highway, in the East End of London. One of the three central roads leaving London, it was a dangerous and run-down area, full of seedy businesses, dark alleys, and dilapidated tenements." wiki/Ratcliff_Highway_murders

The second set of murders took place on the night of December 19, 1811.

These murders made a big impact on the London population. First, they were most brutal. Secondly, the victims were normal hardworking people, not the usual element that most people considered deserving of such a fate. The first set of victims even included an infant.

When the second set of murders occurred, people really were worried about being murdered in their own beds.

A suspect was arrested and committed suicide before he could be brought to trial. There is plenty of doubt about his guilt, but the murders did stop.

You can read in detail about them at the Wikipedia link above. If you prefer, P.D. James (along with T. A. Critchley) actually wrote a book about them. It is called The Maul and the Pear Tree. I read it about a decade ago. Now that I have done so much research into this period, I will have to go back and read it again.

One of the things that I found most interesting about all this was the public spectacle. Allow me to quote the Wikipedia article again: "The bodies, whose wounds were not sutured and eyes were not closed, were laid out on beds in the home. The penny press had ensured the sensational news had spread throughout London and the public came in droves to go through the house and view the corpses. This was not an unusual practice for the time."

How is that for a picture of London in 1811?

**Redemption**

**Chapter 8**

**The Great North Road**

**December 17, 1811**

It was a repulsive way to travel. The coach was crowded, noisy and it stank. Even with all that, Wickham would ordinarily have made the most of the situation. He would have charmed his fellow travelers and kept an eye open for possible advantage. There could have been food shared out of sympathy or perhaps money to be won in a little game of chance. Better yet, two of the travelers were comely enough. Perhaps some favors might be shared when they stopped. If he was really lucky, one of these travelers might even be charmed enough to offer him a place to stay for a while.

But there was no opportunity for any of that on this trip. George Wickham could take no chance at being remembered, much less recognized. Luckily it was a very cold day. No one would think twice about the man with a scarf wrapped around the lower part of his face. Nor would placing his hat over the rest of his face be seen as anything other than a desire to get some sleep.

So far things were going very well. When he had left Meryton, Wickham had headed south. He wanted to lay a false trail. He was headed to the busy hub of St. Albans. There he would be lost in the crowds and could catch a mail coach headed north.

He abandoned the horse he had stolen well outside of the town. He bought a large woolen scarf and a too large hat. His boots and pants were dusty and dirty from his ride. By the time he entered the mail coach, only his height would be recognizable. Then came the worst time. He had to settle down and wait for the early morning coach. He decided to take a room in the worst inn he saw and wait out of sight. Hopefully, he would not be noticed as missing in Meryton until nightfall. The hunt for him would not begin until daybreak. All night long he sat by an open window in his dirty little room. If he heard anything suspicious, out the window he would go. He spent most of the night imagining how Georgiana would welcome him back and how his new brother would make all George's present difficulties go away.

He had encountered no trouble the following morning. He was able to board the mail coach and did not see anyone that he knew. He was now speeding along the road north.

Wickham soon realized that pretending to sleep had other advantages. He could stretch his long legs out a bit. His fellow passengers would think it unconsciously done. He was grateful for the extra room. He was a tall and well-built man. Being folded into this crowded space was miserable. Oh, how he missed the spacious Darcy travelling coach. He smiled a little as he remembered that even that coach was not really built for big men, like the Darcys and like Wickham.

He thought of all the times that they had travelled together, the three pairs of long legs taking up all the space even in that generous equipage. On those trips, and truly at many other times, Wickham used to silently pretend that he was really a Darcy. He had their dark hair and nearly their height. It was an easy idea to hold onto, especially when he was treated with all the deference due to the family at every stop.

When he was younger, he had even believed it might be true. He had gone so far as to sneak into old Darcy's study at night and read through his journals. As his understanding grew, his search for proof that he was a Darcy narrowed to the months in which he might have been conceived. His disappointment was severe when he discovered that Darcy senior and his bride had been on the Continent during all that time. No, George Wickham was not a Darcy and the taste of that was bitter still.

The jostling of the mail coach brought George's mind back to the present. He decided to just sink into the memories of the cushioned seats of the Darcy coach. Slowly, overcome by tiredness from his vigil the night before, Wickham really did drift off to sleep.

The first of his new dreams came.

_They were in the coach, headed to Cambridge. George smoothed his hand over the sleeve of his new coat. The wool was so soft._

"_Nice coat, George."_

_Wickham smiled and looked over at Darcy. "Nice boots, Fitzwilliam."_

_Darcy raised one of his shiny new boots and tilted it back and forth, admiring the leather. "Yes they are, George."_

_All three occupants of the coach burst into laughter. The boys had been to London and had acquired new wardrobes for their start at Cambridge. Both of them were excited and proud. They had been admiring each piece of the other's clothing all morning._

"_Well, if you two can spare the time away from admiring each other, let us see what Cook put in our basket."_

_Old Mr. Darcy pulled the basket up onto the seat and opened it._

_George leaned over to look in. It was a black and rotting mass that was covered in maggots. Shocked, George looked up at Mr. Darcy. He was not there. Wickham's eyes flew to Fitzwilliam. He was gone, too._

_The coach was no longer cushioned or spacious. It was dark, hard and tiny. The sun was not shining anymore. It was pitch black outside. The coach was rocking wildly. The basket upended and maggots were crawling everywhere._

"_No! No! Mr. Darcy! Fitzwilliam! Where are you? Help! Help!_

Wickham's eyes flew open and he remembered where he was. He hoped he had not cried out loud. Surreptitiously, he moved his hat a little and stole a look at his fellow passengers. They were paying him no mind. Nonetheless, Wickham knew that traveling by mail coach was not safe. He would take no chances. When they stopped later, he would find a cheap horse to buy. No stealing along this route. There could be no attention drawn.

P&PP&PP&PP&PP&PP&PP&P_

When the coach stopped at Stilton, George retrieved his bag. There were so many coaching inns here that he had no trouble finding a worn out old horse and matching saddle to buy. Despite the dark and cold, he was tempted to set out across country that night. Better sense prevailed and he stole into a barn on the outskirts of town for a little sleep. By the first rays of dawn he was headed to Pemberley.

Darcy House, London

December 18, 1811

Elizabeth and Darcy had just sat down to breakfast when a visitor was announced. They both rose to welcome the Duke of Leeds.

"Uncle George! Will not you join us for breakfast?"

"Elizabeth. Darcy." He kissed the cheek of the former and nodded his head to the latter. "Forgive me for calling so early and thank you. I have broken my fast, but coffee would be welcome."

He smiled warmly at his niece. "There will be much to discuss as these days pass. I imagine this is not the last time for such early morning calls."

Elizabeth smiled, her eyes sparkling.

"Oh, child. I am so pleased to openly call you my niece." He took her hand and kissed it.

Elizabeth prepared the coffee for him and the three settled down at the table.

"How is Miss Darcy today?"

Darcy spoke to his plate. "We were able to see her already this morning. To me, she looks terrible. However the medical men claim that she is handling the mercury well. If all goes as planned, we will have her back with us by Christmas."

Elizabeth shivered. "We want her out of that place as soon as possible. She is so alone there. They will only let us stay for a few minutes each day. She must be so frightened. When they are done with the mercury, we will nurse her here."

Leeds nodded in commiseration.

"Now. The reason I am here is serious. As I thought on my call to the Prince Regent today, I came to understand that we must give him knowledge of all our secrets."

Darcy frowned.

"Wait, Darcy. Hear me out. I came here first because this affects your family most of all. I will not speak without your consent."

Darcy nodded for Leeds to continue.

"The possible scandal with Miss Darcy, I feel, should be told in full to Prinny."

Now Darcy scowled. Leeds raised his hand to stop Darcy from speaking.

"Hear me out. The matter will also affect the Royal House. They are about to lay claim to Jane, at least as a goddaughter. Jane's sister is now married to you. Your sister's situation will bring the Royals into the gossip. It is not possible that it will be otherwise. You must see this."

Darcy was almost biting his tongue. One did not ask if the Prince Regent could be trusted. However, with his reputation, Darcy had serious doubts.

"I see your dilemma, Darcy. You want to ask if Prinny will keep your secrets. In my youth, I spent much time with him. He is much more than he often appears. He can be trusted with this, with all of it. Darcy, the Royals have dealt with so very many things. Right now they have not formally claimed Jane. They have the right to know what is coming, to decide what to do."

Leeds paused to look at Elizabeth and then back to Darcy. "Know this. No matter how Prinny decides to proceed, he will do nothing to harm his half-sister. It is just not possible. He would never act to harm her."

Leeds leaned back and took a sip of his coffee, waiting for the Darcys to make a decision.

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**Carlton House, London**

**December 20, 1811**

It had taken two days and a ride by the Duke of Leeds out to Windsor Castle, but some decisions had been made. At least for now, Jane was to be recognized only as the Queen's goddaughter and was not to be told the truth of her father. The Queen would meet the girl sometime after Twelfth Night. For now, the Prince Regent would meet her and, if he approved, she could be released into the care of the Duke of Leeds until the Queen called for her.

Leeds, Darcy and Elizabeth had gone to the Queen's House that morning. The two sisters had collapsed into each other's arms. Perhaps because she was so exhausted by her tears or just so relieved to have Lizzy back or because it was just her nature, Jane took the news of her relationship with the Duke of Leeds and the Earl of Holderness very calmly. However, she did hold fast to her sister's hand the whole time.

"Uncle George, I am so pleased that you really are my uncle."

"And I am very pleased to be able to openly claim you. Now, if we can get approval, you shall remove to my home this very night."

Jane lost a bit of her equanimity and squeezed Elizabeth's hand fiercely. It was not lost on Leeds. All these days alone must have been very hard on Jane. He went over and gently gathered Jane's other hand in his.

"Would you like, my dear, to spend a few nights at your sister's house before you come to stay with me?"

Clear relief broke over Jane's face. Then a pained look took its place. "Uncle George, it is not that I do not wish to come to your home. You must not think that."

Leeds smiled. "Jane, I do not think any such thing. I know you need to be close to Elizabeth and to talk about all this. As much as I want you under my roof, I can wait a few days."

Jane gave her uncle a brilliant smile. She lost her equanimity again a short time later when she discovered that they were all going to go and meet with the Prince Regent.

Now they all stood on the steps of Carlton House and Jane's usual calm was all that could be seen.

Darcy also had his standard mask in place. Inside he was not so stoic. He had spent all his adult life avoiding the Royals and especially the fast set of the Prince. Now he was being forced into this company. He knew that it would not end with this one audience. Jane, at least, was a half-sister and would be safe from the Prince's wandering eye. However, Elizabeth was simply a beauty and Darcy could not be happy with the introduction that was coming. Well, no matter. He would do whatever he needed to in order to protect her.

The Prince's eyes had not left Jane since she had entered the room. Except for the blond hair, the resemblance was striking. Jane had the same air of sweetness and innocence. She was even tall with the same shape and the same ruby lips. _Amelia._ It was as if God had granted him a return of his most beloved sister, a sister who had lain dead more than a year now.

He bade Jane to come and sit by him. "Do not be afraid. We have long known of you and are happy to finally meet you. With Her Majesty as your godmother, you must consider me your eldest brother."

The words were welcome, but Jane was no longer afraid. There was something in the Prince's manner that made her feel safe and protected. It was a perfectly reasonable feeling. Illegitimate half-sister she may have been, but her close resemblance to the lost Princess Amelia had instantly given Jane a place in the Prince's heart. Her gentle manner only insured the strength of that place.

Once the Prince found out that Jane did indeed wish to stay with Leeds and with her sister, permission was easily given. With promises that he would see her soon, Jane was soon allowed to leave with her other relations.

Darcy breathed a sigh of relief as they descended the Carlton House steps. The Prince Regent had let his eyes rove over Elizabeth only twice during the entire meeting.

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Bartlett was filled with happiness when she received word to pack Jane's trunks and accompany them to Darcy House.

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**Grosvenor Square**

**December 21, 1811**

Charles Bingley had been coming early to breakfast every morning to look at the papers. He had been waiting for the announcement. He raised his coffee to his lips as his eyes scanned the page.

_His Grace the Duke of Leeds is pleased to announce the marriage of his niece, Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, Hertfordshire, to Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, Derbyshire. The Earl of Holderness joins in the happiness at this union of his great-granddaughter and his cousin._

Bingley dropped his cup of coffee, splattering the table, the paper and his clothing. As the footman was hurrying over to assist his master, Bingley pushed his chair back and cursed. The footman froze in place. He had never heard his master curse.

Bingley turned to the man and snapped, "Send someone for another paper. Now."

By the time Bingley returned to the breakfast room, the place had been set to rights and a new paper lay unassumingly on the table. He stood staring at it for some time before he sat down. The footman prepared a new cup of coffee for his obviously still agitated master. That coffee grew cold as Bingley just sat and stared.

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Charles Bingley was on his third try for a cup of coffee when his youngest sister entered the room. He had just decided that in spite of all the esteemed connections that Jane apparently had, he would still call on Darcy. He needed to understand the whole situation and he had to at least have word of how Jane was faring. He remembered every look she had ever given him. She was honest and true. She would not have withheld such important information from him. No. Jane had not known of these relations, no more than he had. _Why did she not know? How is she bearing all this shock?_

The rustle of Caroline's skirts drew Bingley's attention to her. Now this was something he was going to enjoy.

"Brother."

"Good morning, Caroline. I trust you slept well."

She curtly nodded and took her place, pulling the paper to her as the footman poured her tea. The Hursts entered just as Caroline gasped. The papers full of details of the new murders near the Ratcliffe Highway. The penny press had delivered this news yesterday, but paper today had more information. Neither the Hursts nor Caroline could speak enough of all the gruesome details. Bingley watched as they filled their stomachs with food all the while exclaiming on how this upset their delicate sensibilities. They barely allowed themselves time to swallow before their next remarks.

Bingley nearly snorted when they began discussing whether or not they should go and view the bodies. Caroline finally declared that she would not subject herself to the vulgar crowds that would be there.

Still watching his sister carefully, Bingley did not miss Caroline and Louisa when their eyes locked. They would be off to a long morning of calls. Such sensational murders would have all the drawing rooms buzzing. Bingley did not miss the gleam in Caroline's eyes. Today's desire for gossip would allow his sister entry into homes that might have normally turned her away. Caroline would not miss this chance.

Bingley watched her mind working. He was not at all surprised when she rose and declared the need to go and change. She would spend a great deal of time dressing. She had important people to impress today.

All three of his fellow diners left the room. Hurst would want to revel in the gore, too. However, he would do it over drinks at his club.

Looking over at the paper whose society announcements remained unread, Bingley pushed back his chair and grinned. They would all be in for some surprises today. The murders were not the only subject that would have drawing rooms abuzz on this day.

Kind man that he was, he felt a moment of guilt. Perhaps he should warn his sister. Everyone was well aware of Caroline's pretensions to become the Mistress of Pemberley. The cats would be licking their whiskers when Caroline was announced into the rooms.

Then all her behavior in Hertfordshire came back to him. All her disgust of the Bennets, all her nasty remarks flew through his mind. These thoughts were followed closely by ones of Darcy. How much that man had suffered her attentions! Bingley had warned his sister over and over that Darcy would never marry her. Caroline always dismissed Charles as if he were an ignorant child. Come to think on it, she did that often. She did not respect him or obey him. Perhaps this day would teach her some important lessons.

No. Charles Bingley could not do that. He would not let his sister, no matter how deserving, be so blindsided by the Ton.

Sighing, he picked up the paper and made for Hurst's study. He would wait there until the ladies were ready for their calls. He would make sure Caroline saw the announcement before she went out.

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When the footman informed Charles that the ladies were descending, he went into the hall to meet them.

"Caroline, a moment of your time please."

"Not now Charles. Whatever you need can wait. I have important calls to make."

She turned her back on him and made for the door.

"Caroline, I must insist."

She looked at Louisa and rolled her eyes, making no effort to hide the gesture from Charles.

"Honestly Charles. I just told you that I have important business today."

The servants in the hall all looked down at the floor. While they were familiar with Miss Bingley's disrespectful attitude toward her brother, it was none the less embarrassing. All the servants liked the gentle Mr. Bingley and always felt for him having such a sister.

"Caroline, you will regret it."

"Yes, I am sure." She patted Charles' arm in a most condescending fashion. "You may tell me all when I return."

Caroline Bingley swept out of the door.

Charles worried that he should have made a greater effort to stop her.

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**Berkeley Square, London**

**December 21, 1811**

Not one to waste this opportunity, Caroline decided that their first call would be to Lady Jersey herself. The Bingley sisters had been trying for years to get vouchers for Almack's. If she could just make friends with one of the patronesses, Caroline would finally be assured of entry. She had paid no attention to Charles' repeated words that people with the stench of trade would never be allowed in. After all, Caroline Bingley was far above trade. Anyone could see that.

Now here was a day with such dreadful gossip to be shared. What better time to hope for admittance to Lady Jersey's drawing room could there ever be?

When the cards were handed to Lady Jersey, her eyebrows went up. Her drawing room had indeed been filled with chatter, but none of it was about the recent murders. They had all been talking about this Elizabeth Bennet who was now a Darcy. Who was she? When would they all meet her? How had Fitzwilliam Darcy found her when none of them had ever heard of her? How did she manage to capture the elusive Mr. Darcy?

Lady Jersey raised her head and looked around the room. "Ladies, Miss Caroline Bingley is at the door."

The whole room burst into laughter. The fact that Miss Bingley had long chased Mr. Darcy was often the subject of many cruel remarks.

"Shall we invite her in?"

A whole chorus of yeses and by all means answered.

The whole room waited in silent anticipation of sport, all eyes glued to the door.

"Miss Bingley, welcome. And this, I believe, is your sister Mrs. Hume?"

"Mrs. Hurst, Lady Jersey."

"Well yes. Come and sit. Does the news bring you to my drawing room on this fine day?"

"Oh yes, My Lady. What dreadful news indeed."

"I can well imagine how dreadful it is." A series of titters was heard. Lady Jersey looked sharply at some of her friends and the noise died.

"Oh yes, My Lady. With all these dreadful murders how is anyone to be safe? Are we all to be murdered in our beds?"

Suddenly Lady Jersey understood. Miss Bingley had not read today's announcements. More pity her.

"But Miss Bingley, I should not think that murder would be anything to the other news of the day, especially not to you."

"Other news? Pray tell Lady Jersey, how can any news be worse than these awful killings?"

This time the room could not hold back and there was laughter all around. Caroline and Louisa knew that something was terribly wrong.

"You could be right Miss Bingley. I do not consider the news dreadful, just most interesting. After all, we are all most anxious to meet the former Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

_Elizabeth Bennet! _"I am sorry. I do not understand. What has that country chit to do with anything?" Immediately after she said it, Caroline knew that she should not have used the word 'chit.' She did not yet understand what was going on and she should have had more control.

"Then you know her?"

Louisa answered. "Yes, Lady Jersey. Her father's estate borders my brother's estate in Hertfordshire."

"Ah yes, Longbourn."

"You know the name of her estate?" Caroline could not keep the shock out of her voice.

"Tell me dear, what do you know of her?"

Louisa could see Caroline struggling and answered again. "She is the second of five daughters. Her father's name is Thomas Bennet. She is about twenty, I believe. I am sure her future is bleak as she has little dowry and the Bennet estate is entailed away from the female line."

There was open laughter again and Lady Jersey had had enough of playing with these two.

"James. Please bring me today's paper."

The room was still as the footman collected the paper from nearby. It was already open to the page of interest.

Lady Jersey held the paper in her hand for a few moments more. There was something else she needed to ask.

"Miss Bingley, did Mr. Darcy by chance visit with you at your brother's estate?"

Caroline immediately felt better. This was something she was dying to share. "Oh, yes. Dear Mr. Darcy stayed with us for nearly two months. Such an attentive friend."

She was shocked to hear more laughter.

"Here, Miss Bingley. Perhaps you should read this."

Caroline still did not know what was happening, but she dutifully took the paper from Lady Jersey and read where the woman had pointed. At first her mind did not comprehend the words. Slowly she read it again. Then she fainted dead away.

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**Grosvenor Square**

**December 21, 1811**

Even though it was less than an hour and a half after their departure, Charles had already left for Darcy House when Caroline and Louisa returned. He missed all that excitement, screeching, and the urgent messages sent to Mr. Wendel requesting his immediate attendance.


	9. Chapter 9

**History Notes:** As you shall find out in this chapter, the present Earl of Arlington has lost all his children. When I bent myself to the search for their causes of death, I found a lot of interesting things.

First, disease was everywhere. We are not talking about the occasional outbreak of some dreaded illness. We are talking about epidemics happening all the time. They occurred nearly every single year. Most often there was not just one epidemic in a year, but two or three different diseases took their toll. There is a list that covers our time periods if you want to take a look. . ?option=com_content&view=article&id=1&Itemid=30

Typhus reared its ugly head in so many different circumstances that it came to be called many names; goal fever, camp fever, hospital fever, and ship fever are just a few. Anywhere that people were crowded together was perfect for this disease to spread. (Of course, the same can be said for many other illnesses.)

We understand now that Typhus is transmitted by lice. It is even more deadly to them than it is to us. None of them survive the infection and many of us did, even before antibiotics and vaccines. However, the lice do live long enough to spread the disease among us.

Typhus seems to have been with us for a long time. No one knows for sure how long. It is difficult to identify diseases in the distant past. The first change in human history that can be safely laid at Typhus' door happened in 1489 when King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella were trying to throw the Moors out of Spain. They had them trapped in Granada when Typhus struck the Spanish army. It killed 17,000 of the 25,000 soldiers there within a month. The remnants of the army fled. It also played a big role in the downfall of Napoleon. You can read a nice paper on Typhus in history here: .

We do need crowded conditions for Typhus. These little lice are slow crawling creatures and they need to make it from one person to the other. This makes ships, prisons, hospitals and army camps ideal. I was surprised to note an outbreak in England in 1791 that favored the wealthy. Wonder how that came about? Lice on the seats of the opera house?

It also helps Typhus to spread when people are dirty. Washing the lice off of one's person and one's clothing can slow the little bugs down. Good old Beau Brummell accidently brought a lessening of Typhus to the quality people of London when he brought cleanliness into fashion.

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**Redemption**

**Chapter 9**

**Euston, Suffolk**

**December 25, 1811**

Henry Bennet was pleased that Christmas day had finally come. The house was entirely too crowded and the evenings with his neighbors had grown tiring. For today, at least, there was peace. Some carolers were sure to come by later, but that could be tolerated.

He looked down the long table at his brother's wife. The widow was now acting mistress of Euston. She was doing a fine job of it, too. Everything was running smoothly. When Henry had brought up this year's boxes for the tenants and servants, he found that she had already planned for all that, too. Who knew the old girl had it in her?

Then his eyes turned to the seat at his right and fell on her son, his heir. The idea of that stuck in Henry' craw. It was not simply that he did not like the boy. _He is twenty five. I should call him a man, but I cannot._ He was not particularly handsome, indulged in too many vices, already had a paunch and had inherited little of the Bennet charm. But his serious fault was that the boy had no ambition. If he had shown more interest in politics, Henry might have seen to a title for young William Bennet. That way the boy could have been of use in the House of Lords, dutifully voting however Henry directed and learning about England in the process. But gossip, gaming and women were William's concerns. He had also never shown the slightest interest in the estates. These things left an ugly taste in Henry's mouth, but they were not what really bothered him. Henry knew that the earldom would survive a bad earl. It had done so in the past and could do so again.

What Henry could not get over was the fact the heir was not his own son. All of Henry's sons lay unmoving and cold. Typhus, that scourge of the masses, had run through the quality and had left Henry's three sons dead in its wake.

Henry's wife was not so old when it happened, but still she had not delivered to him another child. Though initially broken and bitter, Henry had finally come to terms with the idea that his younger brother's line would carry on the title. Or so he had thought. Over the last several years, the realization that his own son would not be earl had become more and more difficult to bear.

Now, finally, his wife was dead too. More than a year had passed since she was laid to rest and not one day had gone by without Henry thinking of siring another heir. At sixty, he knew that he was old. However, he still had fire in his loins. Surely he was able. A nubile young wife was needed, one with generous breasts and wide hips, the sort of woman designed to bear sons.

In that moment, Henry knew that he had really decided. He bit back a smile. What an uproar there would be in the family. He rested his eyes once again on his heir. _And you… Surely you will curse me in every drawing room in Town._

Suddenly he frowned. He was about to enter London's drawing rooms with a purpose. He had made a mistake and he knew hit. That curt missive Henry had sent to Leeds was an error. As distasteful as he found his youngest brother, Henry should not have responded in such a way to Leeds. His Grace would not soon forget and neither would Holderness. They were ever so fond of those daughters of Thomas. Henry should have allowed his name to be added to the wedding announcement. It would have cost nothing other than a little pride.

Still, it had been too much to hear of one of Thomas' children marrying. The idea that the little monster had living, breathing children while Henry's own progeny lay in the family vault was unconscionable.

Now Henry had a situation to fix. Once William found out that Henry was shopping for a bride, the boy would not be silent. Henry did not need Leeds or Holderness adding to the negative gossip. Just Henry's age would trial enough without these added complications. Oh, even an aged earl would have no trouble finding a willing bride, but doing so should be as pleasant as possible.

Well, there was nothing that he could do about the fits that his current heir would have, but maybe Henry could heal the breach with Leeds and Holderness. He would find a way.

A little bile rose in the back of his throat as he thought about being welcoming to any daughter of Thomas. Nonetheless, he would do it.

The Earl's voice showed none of his thoughts as it broke clearly and cleanly through the silence at the table.

"I, for one, shall be pleased to adjourn to London in two days. The celebrations there should bring some cheer to us all."

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**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**December 25, 1811**

Thomas Bennet was most displeased that it was Christmas day. For the most part, he had been able to avoid his family. No one thought anything amiss when Thomas shunned every neighborhood gathering. It was what he always did. At first the arrival of the Gardiners was a little disruptive. But, after two days, even brother Gardiner tired of trying to make conversation with him and Thomas was once again left to his own devices. Today, however, there was no way for Thomas to escape to his library. First he had to sit through church with all of them and now he had to sit through this dinner. _It will be over soon._

Normally he would occupy himself by ridiculing their follies. They were all such easy targets for his wit. He had indulged himself some today, but this particular diversion had momentarily lost its pleasure. So instead, he decided to study them all.

Fanny had her head together with her sister's. Those two had not stopped talking since Mrs. Philips had arrived. Could not they for once be quiet? How could Thomas have not seen what a silly woman Fanny was before he married her? Even if he had been temporarily blinded by her beauty, surely the behavior of her foolish sister should have given warning.

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**Meryton, Hertfordshire**

**December 12, 1791**

Thomas had arrived at Longbourn determined to make a good home for Elizabeth and Jane.

However, it not many days before he began to feel overwhelmed. It was not just the care of the girls. There was also the added burden of having the role of master cast at him every time he turned around. In all his years, Thomas had never had to deal with the running of anything and did not care to start. For the sake of his small daughters, though, he was making the effort.

What really made it all almost unbearable was that there was no peace. A steady stream of callers came to Longbourn.

Having a Bennet in residence once again delighted them all. The expanded house awed them. Having the new neighbor be a widower with two small daughters made them all disposed to like him and take care of him. Of course they all knew that he was the future husband of one of their daughters. Who could possibly be more in need of a wife?

And so they came.

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Thomas was finally settled in the drawing room. He had a sleeping Elizabeth in his arms. The poor darling had been so fussy. Thomas holding her close to his chest always seemed to calm her, so he had shooed the servants away and walked with her until she slept. When the nurse tried to take Elizabeth back, Thomas instead sent her to retrieve Jane. A little time alone with his girls was what Thomas needed.

This was the scene that met Francis Gardiner when she, along with her father, was announced into the room. A very handsome man was holding a sleeping infant while a beautiful little girl played quietly on the floor.

Thomas nearly groaned. He had to teach that idiot Hill to ask before announcing people. Then he actually took a look at his new visitors. The girl was stunning, blond-haired, blue-eyed and voluptuous. Thomas' reaction was immediate. He thought about how long it had been since he had had a woman. His thoughts flew to wondering how quickly he could install a new mistress in Town.

By the end of the visit, Jane had crawled into the lap of the Gardiner girl. Thomas wanted very much to take her place.

When he lay in bed that night, visions of Francis Gardiner were with him. He suddenly saw an answer to many things. She had been so warm and motherly to little Jane. His girls deserved, needed that. And a wife would stop all these servants coming to him every time they needed some little thing. Moreover, she could handle all the callers and he could retire to his library. Better and better. And then there were her sweetness, her shy smiles, her quiet deference and her comely body. Yes. Thomas did not need to go to Town for a mistress. He could regain his peace and warm his bed all with one little move.

He laughed out loud thinking about the disapproval of his father and his brothers. A Bennet marrying an attorney's daughter? Not to be borne. It made the idea all the more enticing.

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A high pitched shriek from Fanny brought Thomas back to the present. It was true that Fanny had proved a very good bed warmer in those early years. However, he had been sorely mistaken about her nature. She was not shy. Nor was she sweet. No wonder the Gardiners had not left them alone for a minute before the wedding. Knowing Fanny as he did now, Thomas was sure that she had fits the whole time. In some show of respect for Thomas'

recently widowed state, the ceremony had been small and private. Thomas was sure that Fanny had ranted and had fought with her parents over that. However not one word of dissatisfaction had ever reached Thomas' ears. In his presence, Fanny was all gentleness and calm. How many lectures had they given her to produce that result?

By the time Thomas figured out what he had married, it was too late. Still, she did take care of the household and all visitors. She had also been a good mother to Jane. All in all, Fanny had allowed Thomas to retreat to his library. Sighing, he acknowledged that this had been his aim. Perhaps she had served her purposes well enough.

Thomas turned his attention to others at the table.

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Madeline Gardiner felt Thomas's eyes on her but she would ignore him. If she did meet his eye, she was angry enough that she might just say something. Here, at the dinner table, was not the place for that.

She surreptitiously looked at her nieces. Kitty had been very quiet since their arrival. It was almost as if she did not know how to behave without Lydia brashly leading the way. And Lydia. Thank heavens that the poor girl was well enough to come to dinner. And thank heavens that both Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips were so far heeding Madeline's warning not to speak of the attack. She was sure they would forget before the end of meal, but so far so good.

Poor little Lydia did not need any reminders. Madeline could see how frightened the girl still was. The few times that Lydia had left her room, she did not stray above two feet away from Mary. Even now Madeline was sure that Lydia was furiously gripping Mary's hand under the table.

It had been a surprise and a pleasure to spend some time with Mary this visit. She had truly seemed grateful for her aunt's attention and advice. Had Madeline been blind all these years to the strength and character in Mary? Or was it that recent events had transformed her? Either way, Madeline knew that she had never paid enough attention to Mary. That was certainly going to change. As soon as things quieted down in London, Madeline would have Mary come to them for a nice long stay.

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**Darcy House, London**

**December 25, 1811**

Georgiana was so pale and so weak that the other residents of Darcy House had forgone even Church services this morning. No one wanted to leave her. Darcy now sat by her bed, holding the sleeping girl's hand. Jane quietly attended to her sewing nearby. Elizabeth; the housekeeper, Mrs. Grimes; and the apothecary all were in the sitting room next door, discussing what more could be done for Georgiana.

Jane's hands were busy but her mind was not on her embroidery. She was remembering her reunion with Mr. Bingley. Had it been only four days ago?

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_**Darcy House, London**_

_**December 21, 1811**_

_Knocker down or not, as always Bingley was warmly welcomed into Darcy House. All the servants liked this young man. He was uniformly kind and of good cheer. What they liked best, however, was the comfort that the master seemed to feel in Bingley's presence. Young Master Darcy had had a rough time of things. The happy Mr. Bingley had been much needed when he first appeared in the master's life._

"_Sir, the Master and the Mistress are out. However, we expect them any time now if you would care to wait."_

_Bingley certainly did care to wait and allowed himself to be led to the drawing room. _

_Seeing the room was not empty, the butler announced "Mr. Bingley, mam." The butler then turned to a footman and nodded for him to also enter the room. It would not do to leave Mrs. Darcy's sister alone with a gentleman caller, even if it was Mr. Bingley._

_Jane was frozen, staring at Charles as he walked into the room. _

_Bingley was also speechless, but he managed to move forward. His angel was here, right here in front of him. How he had despaired of never seeing her again. She was even more beautiful than he remembered and his heart thudded in his chest as he approached her._

_His feet moved on their own and soon he was close, near enough that he could have touched her if he had stretched out his arm. His eyes never left hers._

"_I went back to Longbourn for you." It was the gentlest of whispers. "Oh, Jane. When you were gone I thought I should die."_

"_Charles."_

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Mr. Bingley had been here three times now. Each time they had found some minutes alone. Yesterday, he had kissed her, a gentle and soft kiss.

How were they to survive the coming separation? She would not be able to see him when she removed to Osborne House, much less when the Queen took her back. That Jane deeply loved Charles, and he her, could no longer be denied. Whatever were they to do?

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**Kympton, Derbyshire**

**December 25, 1811**

_Wickham had been sick. Old Mr. Darcy had come to sit with him for a while every day. All the servants fussed over him and Cook prepared special treats to tempt him to eat. _

_He had a nightmare last night. He had been so cold. It was alright now. That was just a dream. He was safe in his room at Pemberley._

_The soft and warm bedding was tucked all around him. George Darcy's deep rich voice was reading a fairy tale. Wickham could even smell Cook's fresh oatmeal biscuits. If he just opened his eyes, he knew he would see his godfather smiling at him._

When Wickham did open his eyes, he was disoriented. He was in a warm bed, but this did not look like his room. George Darcy was nowhere to be seen. In another moment, Wickham was really awake. He was not a little boy anymore. He was not at Pemberley. Where was he?

"Ah, glad to see you finally awake. We have been worried for you."

Wickham looked up at a kindly face. "Where am I?"

"The parsonage at Kympton."

George started at that comment, but the man had turned to retrieve a glass of water for Wickham. By the time the vicar turned around, Wickham had schooled his features.

"How long have I been here?"

"Two days now. You had collapsed in the snow. Just luck that I saw you at all."

Everything was quickly coming back to Wickham: the long and cold trip to Derbyshire, hiding in a cave by night and watching Pemberley by day, and finally deciding that it was all too quiet. The Darcys were from home.

He had been miserable, only able to have a fire at night when the smoke could not be seen. Then, he had started to feel ill. He was aching all over when he arrived back at his cave. It was all he could do to build his fire for the night. He would leave in the morning. He needed a warm room and he needed to talk to some villagers. Were all the Darcys gone? Was Georgiana still at Pemberley?

When George had rolled up his bed and made for his horse, he found the animal gone. What had happened? His illness had started the night before and he had been so tired. Maybe he had not tied the horse well. No matter now. He would head for Kympton and catch a coach south if Georgiana was gone.

But it had started to snow. Walking became more and more difficult. That was all George could remember. Now he was awake and, of all places, he was at the parsonage in Kympton. George knew he should find this situation amusing, but the humor escaped him just now.

"I have been ill."

"Yes. However your fever broke during the night." The vicar eyed his charge carefully. The possible meaning of the sore on the man's temple had not escaped him. Some who suffered from the French disease were unstable in their minds. This man seemed calm, but it was prudent to be careful.

"Thank you for finding me and taking me in." Wickham closed his eyes and pretended to drift off to sleep. It was best to have a story ready before his host began to question who he was and why he was in Derbyshire.

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**Matlock House, London**

**December 25, 1811**

The Earl of Matlock and his heir were deeply in their cups. Not only had the Darcys foiled all their plans, they had to put up with Lady Catherine and her daughter. The old bird had come storming to Town, just as soon as she had seen the announcement. It did the Earl no good to tell her that their little bargain was no more. Darcy was married now. He could not be Anne's.

"Blast Darcy! Can he do no wrong? He elopes with a county nothing! Only she is not a nothing!"

The Earl had been furious ever since he had seen the announcement.

The Viscount raised an eyebrow at his father. Only years of being respectful kept him from saying 'Stop moaning.'

"Father, perhaps all is not lost."

"Humph."

"No. Listen. Maybe I can still get Georgiana's dowry."

Matlock raised his glassy eyes to his son. "How?"

"She eloped with a servant's son! She still is ruined despite Darcy somehow landing on his feet. If she survives whatever illness she has now, her situation will not change. Now if her husband were to meet with some unfortunate accident..."

"She would still be ruined. Who would take her now?"

"Exactly Father. Darcy would see that I am the only choice. Marrying me will restore her respectability and that of her future children." The Viscount smirked. "Why I may even be able to force Darcy to raise her dowry. It will be a great favor I am doing, after all."

Both men were much more sober.

"Son, perhaps we are not even in need of an accident. Richard has murder in his eyes whenever Wickham's name is mentioned. If we can just find him, I think that Richard would quietly and efficiently take care of the rest."

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Sometime after the two men finally stumbled out of the room, a figure stood and moved from a dark corner.

She had heard everything. Her brother and his son were right. There was no reason to settle for the way things were. Accidents did happen.

Lady Catherine had a small smile on her face as she headed off to bed.

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**Grosvenor Square, London**

**December 25, 1811**

Caroline Bingley lay in her comfortable bed. Her mind would not be still. _ Jilted and humiliated._ It was all too much. She had put all her life into joining the first circles. Now society would be closed to her. The only way out of it all was to marry Darcy. That would make all those old cats eat their words.

Elizabeth Bennet, of all people, was in the way. Even that kind Mr. Wendel seemed to think poorly of her. In her mind's eye Caroline saw that black bag that he carried_. I wonder what kind of useful things might be in there. Next time he is here, I will be so interested. He is sure to show me. _

Caroline swallowed another dose of laudanum. Loose ideas and possible plans floated through her mind as she drifted off to sleep.

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	10. Chapter 10

**History Notes:**

**1.** - In 1771 King George III got really upset when his brother, the Duke of Cumberland, married a commoner. While this woman's daddy was a Baron at the time of the marriage, it did not matter. For King George III, a commoner meant anyone not royal. Yes indeed. For marriage into the Royal Family, even a dukes and earls did not rate any more than you or I would unless they (or you, dear reader) also happened to be a _legitimate_ royal.

The King's temper was really tried when he found out another of his brothers, the Duke of Gloucester, had secretly done the same thing five years earlier.

Well, enough was enough. The Royal House must remain strong. In addition to weakening the royal blood and prestige, mixing in commoners led to unpleasant things like that old War of the Roses. There must not be riffraff with claims to the crown.

To protect the family line, the Royal Marriages Act of 1772 was passed. With some exceptions for the progeny of princesses who married foreign crowns, it forbade the marriage of any descendant of King George II without consent of the Sovereign or the Privy Council.

This law is still in existence today. Even the present Prince William had to get permission to marry Catherine Middleton. For a look other marriages that required this approval (as well as how King George III's own sons disobeyed him at every turn over this,) go here: wiki/Royal_Marriages_Act_1772

- Now, we talked earlier in the story about the poor Princess Amelia who died in 1810. She was the much adored baby of the Royal Family, the last of fifteen children. Due to ill health, she was often sent to Weymouth to take sea air and other cures (most of which, the less said the better.)

Because she loved riding, King George III sent his favorite equerry to her. They rode out together as often as the princess was able. Although he was twenty years her senior, it is said that they fell deeply in love. Books have been written about the romance. You can even find one free online by looking here: ** books?id=O-IxAQAAIAAJ&printsec=frontcover&dq=the+romance+of+princess+amelia&hl=en&sa=X&ei=HIbHT8jjJInE2gWj6pH8Cg&ved=0CDQQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q=the%20romance%20of%20princess%20amelia&f=false**

The name of this love of Princess Amelia's was General Hon. Charles Fitzroy. He was himself descended from royal blood. Unfortunately it was from the wrong side of the blanket. Thus the King would never approve the match. It is said by some that they intended to wed after George IV became King. Others say that they did indeed wed in secret. No matter the truth of the marriage, Princess Amelia did will him almost all her worldly goods. However the Prince Regent, who was executor of her estate, never honored her wishes.

**2.** - The descriptions that you will see today of the dinner table at Carlton House are from a real dinner given by the Prince Regent. However the dinner described was not really from Twelfth Night in 1812, but rather from a celebration that he held in 1811 in honor of his becoming Prince Regent. Smith, E.A.; George IV; Yale University Press; New Haven; 1999; p. 133.

**Redemption**

**Chapter 10**

**Matlock House, London**

**December 25, 1811**

Richard Fitzwilliam had quietly left the house to meet with Welcher. There was no news. Wickham evaded them still. After leaving Welcher with Boxing Day coin for himself and his minions, Richard made his way slowly back to Matlock House. There had to be more that he could do to find the blasted villain.

Instead of retiring for the night as he wished, he refreshed himself and dressed again for company. Richard knew it was proper that he rejoin his father and brother. There was no thought of pleasure in this, only duty. Richard Fitzwilliam always did his duty. So, he headed for the library.

As he neared the room, he saw his mother standing to the side of the open door. She must have heard him coming for she turned quickly to look at him. Richard thought he saw relief flow through her and was about to call out a greeting. However, Lady Matlock quickly put her finger to her lips to signal for quiet and then motioned him to come closer.

He stood there with his mother, eavesdropping on his father and brother. What he heard drove any feelings of guilt for this away.

When they heard the men preparing to leave the library, Richard pulled his mother away and into an alcove. They waited until the sounds of the Earl and the Viscount had faded completely away. Lady Matlock started to move, but Richard held her back. It was best to wait a few more minutes. Just when you were sure that an enemy was gone, they could come back and fool you. _Yes. It is true. My father and brother are enemies, at least of Darcy and Georgiana._

It was good that they had waited. Only a few minutes had gone by when they heard the swish of skirts. Lady Catherine exited the library. She had a self-satisfied smile on her face. _And now, what does that mean?_

There was another wait, but all remained still. Richard motioned for his mother to follow him. He led her to his own sitting room. It was a good choice for a private conversation. Richard had long ago taken rooms far away from the family wing. His official reason was that his soldier's life had him coming and going at all hours, with and without notice to his family. By taking distant rooms, he would disturb no one with his unpredictable schedule.

In truth, Fitzwilliam had never felt safe in the Matlock houses. He had seen drawings of large spiders from the Americas, sitting on huge webs. He had immediately thought of his own family. That was what his family did every day, weave webs of intrigue and try to catch some new victim in their nets. All of them were like that, all except his Darcy cousins. There was little wonder that Richard spent most of his London time at Darcy House.

As they entered his rooms, Richard took a brief look at his mother. Maybe she was different, too. She had seemed so changed at Pemberley. Maybe there was more to her than Richard had previously seen.

After stationing his man in the hall to assure privacy, Richard went to a table and poured two brandies.

"I am sorry Mother. There is not a drop of sherry in my rooms. Have some of this. It will do you good."

"Did you hear everything?"

"I heard enough. They are fools. Darcy would not marry Georgiana to my esteemed brother under the best of circumstances. Much less now. Assuming she survives, I do not believe her mind will ever be the same."

"At least we know that they have heard nothing of her disease."

"I do not think it would matter if they had. They are clearly after her money. Are things so bad with the House of Matlock? Are we desperate? Is that why are they after Georgiana? I have heard rumors, but I have deliberately ignored them. There never seemed to be anything that I could do anyway. Should I have made more of an effort? Is our downfall widely known? Can the Viscount not acquire some other fortune? Why does he target that dear girl?"

Lady Matlock stared at her second son, the man she barely knew. He had gone from Eton to Cambridge to the service of the King. Before Eton and during all the school holidays after, she had made sure that he spent most of his time with the Darcys. It had not been hard to do. The Earl merely looked at Richard as an unneeded spare, never paying him much mind.

Her eyes studied the hard and battle weary face of her son. She was hit with a sudden pang of longing. She had missed so much of the life with this fine young man.

Unfortunately, the Countess had learned early on that the Earl would destroy anything that she valued. Oh, he never raised his hands to her, but he wanted her to suffer. If she had ever let him know how she adored her youngest son, the Earl would have been cruel to him, just to spite her. So the Countess had been cold and distant to this dear boy, only able to send him to Darcy for affection. Lady Matlock might not have been able to escape her fate. She might not have been able to rescue her first son. But she saw to it that the younger one did not have to live the Fitzwilliam nightmare.

She willfully shoved those feeling aside and told Richard all she knew of the state of the House of Matlock. "Look around, son. The carpets are worn. The glasses are chipped. The wine is cheap. Everything is ill-kept. I have seen it grow worse year by year. Sometime ago, I began to study the Earl's books."

Richard listened and was unsurprised to learn of all the schemes that his father and brother had tried over the years nor of all the money they had lost. Somehow, it seemed that he had known all this all along. When his mother added what she suspected of their gambling debts, he found himself still unsurprised. It seemed that his father and his brother had succeeded in ruining the earldom. No wonder they were after Georgiana's thirty thousand pounds. _The rumors are true._

Finally Richard snorted. "Well it sounds as if they are incompetent enough so that we need not fear for the safety of Georgina." He paused and looked straight into his mother's eyes. "You realize that they are correct in part. I will kill Wickham as soon as I find him."

A little chill went through Lady Matlock as she nodded. She did not doubt him for a moment. This son of hers was a formidable man.

"However, they are fools to believe that it will help them get Georgiana. That will never happen." He paused and took a healthy sip of his brandy.

"Mother, what do you make of Aunt Catherine? What pleases her about all this?"

"I do not know, son. However, it worries me. I do know that things at Rosings are probably not all that they seem. I think she may worry for money as much as does the Earl. I wonder if he has caught her in his schemes. I wonder what the state of her fortune is. She is not to be taken lightly."

Richard could only nod in agreement. His father and his brother might be incompetent, but Lady Catherine had always been a dangerous woman. She had hated de Bourgh so much that Richard had often wondered if she had killed him. His sudden illness and death had been much too convenient. If her finances were in a dire state, of what would she be capable? Was that why she wanted Darcy for Anne's husband? Was Darcy money supposed to rescue Rosings? If so, would she really give up just because Darcy had wed? Richard felt a stab of concern for Elizabeth's welfare.

**P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P **

**Wapping, London**

**January 4, 1812**

Wickham was pleased. He had found lodging for a pittance. The recent murders here had left lots of empty rooms. The inn he was in was not so bad. The room was almost clean and the food was good.

His stay in Kympton had given him back some strength. That vicar was a good man and never once had preached at him. Wickham had worried about being recognized until he got a look at himself in the mirror. Between his illness, his beard, his wild hair and his dirty clothing, he looked nothing like George Wickham the Gentleman.

George had quickly found out that the entire Darcy family had decamped to London with every expectation of remaining there until summer. Fine and well then. To London Wickham went. He had to see Georgiana.

First he had gone to Edward Street. Younge's lodging house would be the best place for him. It was in a good area and Younge would take care of all his needs. However, Wickham had been leery. He knew that Fitzwilliam was after him. Younge's house might be watched. A few hours in the park had proven that correct. Two little urchins were watching the house. When Younge went out, one of them followed her. There would be no refuge for Wickham on Edward Street.

A little time in a seedy tavern had told him all he needed to know. The Ratcliffe Highway murders were still the talk of the town. Wickham would hide near there. It would be cheap and there was no danger of Wickham being thought a killer. A little plaster on his face to cover up that blasted sore was all he needed. His easy manners would win over his landlord and his new neighbors in no time. It was the way things had always been.

Now Wickham needed some type of job. While he did not relish working, he knew he needed an income until he could find a way to get to Georgiana. The funds he had 'borrowed' from his fellow militiamen were running low.

As he was out walking his new neighborhood, he saw a team of horses pull up to one of the coaching inns. In that moment, he knew what to do. His talent with horses was trumped only by his talent with women. He would take a job at the largest stable he could find that was close to Darcy House.

Fitzwilliam and Darcy would never think to find him working in such a place. If he crossed paths with any who knew him, they would never deign to actually look at him long enough to recognize him. Servants were always overlooked. He would hide in plain sight. It was perfect. He could combine an income with easily watching Darcy House in his off hours. He had to determine the occupants' routines.

**P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P **

**Darcy House, London**

**January 6, 1812**

Darcy had entered his wife's rooms full of anxieties. Foremost on his mind was his sister. Georgiana was recovering, albeit very slowly. He was loath to leave her even though she would be in the capable hands of Richard, his mother and the new woman they had hired, a Mrs. Annesley. However, his duty to Elizabeth's sister must override concerns for Georgiana, at least for this night. Thinking of Jane brought Bingley to his mind. _The poor man._

Once Darcy saw Elizabeth, all other thoughts flew from his head. Her deep red dress was cut low and her magnificent bosom was all that his eyes could see. He stalked toward her. The look in his eyes made Elizabeth unable to breathe. Before she knew it, her breasts had been pulled free of her dress and his wicked mouth was latched onto her. Nearly faint from pleasure, she barely noticed that she had been pushed up against the wall. Somehow, her skirts were lifted and his fingers found her core. Suddenly, she was lifted up and impaled on him. He took her right there, against the wall.

As her breathing returned to normal, he whispered in her ear. "Bless you my love. You take me away from everything. You give me strength. Now I can face this ridiculous night that we must endure. I love you so. Thank you again and again for saving me." He captured her mouth in another passionate kiss and then let her slowly down to the floor. "Come. Let Akers put you to rights."

**P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P **

**Carlton House, London**

**January 6, 1812**

Leeds felt Jane's hand tremble on his arm as they entered the room. His eyes flew to her face. Even though her face was partially hidden by her mask, he could see that she looked perfectly calm and serene.

He felt a great upwelling of pride. His Jane, despite her fears, would meet all with unfailing grace. _Blood will tell. Be prepared, Lords and Ladies. A Princess has just entered the room._

Elizabeth's hand did not tremble. She had had several days to come to terms with the fact that she would be meeting some of the most illustrious personages in the land. Mere title or wealth did not intimidate her. She knew, however, that some she would meet would have great deeds to their credit or would be great minds. These people might inspire some awe, but still she would meet with pleasure. Meryton had been such a confined and unvarying place. Elizabeth looked forward very much to acquaintances who had lived in the wider world. Tonight all would have masks in place and conversation would rule the meetings. What better way was there to discover who had some wit and merit to them?

However, at the moment, Elizabeth could not indulge in these imaginary pleasures. Her entire attention was focused on her sister. Though Jane appeared all serenity, Elizabeth knew the trepidations that lay behind Jane's mask. Normally, all would be well once some introductions had taken place and Jane could enter into some conversation. Her nature was such that she truly thought well of all she met and would immediately take a kind interest in them and all their concerns. Such an attitude unfailingly made Jane liked and welcomed wherever she went. Despite the opulent surroundings and the formidable company, tonight would have been no different. However, with masks in place and with the wildness allowed on such an evening, Elizabeth had real concerns.

Darcy was also worried about Jane, but for entirely different reasons. He well knew that Jane would be separated from them, at least for dinner. He and Elizabeth were here tonight only because Leeds had arranged the invitation. Darcy was not a peer nor was he part of the normal Carlton House crowd. He and Elizabeth would not be seated near the Prince and Jane surely would. Darcy's real fear was Jane's exposure to some of the more unseemly friends of the Prince Regent. Their conversation was most often not for a lady's ears. Jane was such an innocent. Much as he desired to protect her sensibilities, Darcy knew that most of that duty would fall to Leeds. Luckily, the Duchess' confinement kept her at home and Leeds would be free to focus all his attention on Jane.

Worse than the conversation would be the behavior of this crowd. On this Twelfth Night, the lack of morals in this group could lead to dangerous places. Darcy knew that with her beauty more than Jane's sensibilities would be in significant peril. Real hope lay in the fact that Prinny did seem to think of her as a sister. Surely he would join with Leeds in keeping Jane from real harm. Darcy and Elizabeth would stay as close to her as they could, but much would be out of their hands.

Since they had not been allowed to keep Jane at Darcy House, he wished very much that the Queen had taken Jane away to the 'nunnery' at Windsor. Darcy felt that at least she would have been safe there. His conversation with Holderness had put paid to any such dreams.

The formidable introduction of Jane to her godmother had quietly taken place. The Queen had inquired minutely into Jane's education and accomplishments. Holderness had said that it appeared as if Queen Charlotte was making sure that all her orders with respect to Jane had been properly carried out. When satisfied, the Queen fell quiet and simply looked at Jane for the longest time. The audience was soon at an end.

However, Holderness had been summoned back the very next day. Apparently Jane's resemblance to her dead daughter had truly shaken the Queen. Princess Amelia had been the King's favorite and he still wandered the halls of Windsor calling out for his 'Emily.' There was no chance that the Queen would risk further upset to the King. If he saw Amelia come back to life and walking the grounds of Windsor, there was no telling what might happen. Jane Bennet would be allowed nowhere near the King.

Nonetheless, the Queen was determined to do her duty to the poor girl whose very existence was due to the King's madness. She ordered that the girl make her home in the Queen's House and trusted the Prince Regent to find her a suitable mate.

Darcy shuddered at the thought of what that might mean. His confidence in the Prince Regent did not increase when he found that the Prince intended to introduce Jane to society on such a wild night as this.

Then there was the situation with Bingley. Darcy was sure that Charles was as besotted as ever. It was also clear that Jane did return his affections. They both seemed doomed to heartache.

Placing his free hand over Elizabeth's hand on his arm, Darcy pulled her closer and made to gently push his way through the crowd. It would not do to let Jane out of their sight.

As for Elizabeth, she could look forward to not being let out of his grasp. Perhaps he should pull out his large handkerchief and make Elizabeth use it as a tucker.

**P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P **

General Hon. Charles Fitzroy had seen the group enter. Early on he had stationed himself on a balcony where he could see the entrance of the room. The great height and dark hair of both Darcy and Leeds easily gave their party away. Fitzroy's eyes fixed on Jane, memorizing her mask and her dress. That blond hair was too light, but he knew everything else was perfect. It was Amelia come back to him and this time there could be no impediment to marriage.

He knew beyond doubt that he could convince Prinny to give her over, a King's bastard given to a line of King's bastards. Oh, yes. Her stunning resemblance to Amelia could only mean that Jane was the natural daughter of the king. There was no other possibility and there could be no objection to the match. More importantly, Fitzroy knew that Prinny harbored great guilt. The Prince Regent had abused his dead sister by not honoring her will. All her jewels, all her property and all her money had been willed to Fitzroy and Prinny had not honored the will. This King-to-be owed Fitzroy a great debt and he meant to collect.

**P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P **

The crowd was overwhelming. Elizabeth felt sure that there must be a thousand people here. Due to both Darcy's insistence and her own desire to keep Jane in view, Elizabeth had declined all offers to dance. Finally, they made their way to the supper rooms. Darcy whispered that at least they would be in the same room as Jane.

Upon entering, even Elizabeth could not restrain an awed gasp. The huge room was a magnificent gothic conservatory with soaring ceilings. A large silver basin fed a stream that was well stocked with golden fish. It meandered through flowers and vegetation and then ran the length of an enormous dinner table. After that, Elizabeth could see that it spilled out into lit gardens, forming a spectacular waterfall of ice on this cold night.

She looked back at the amazing table. Surely it would seat at least two hundred people. Soon Elizabeth found that while she and Darcy were seated in this room, it was at one of the smaller tables off against a wall. Still, she was happy that she would at least be near Jane as the night went on.

**P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P **

Jane found herself seated between the Prince Regent and General Fitzroy. While both men were everything kind and solicitous, Jane felt safe with the Prince and anything but with the General. The Prince had brought him along when he came to call, just as Jane was removed back to the Queen's House. The General was old, surely twice her age. And yet he had done nothing but stare at her. Part of it was the same kind of stare that Jane had suffered from many men over the years. She knew somehow that it was not proper and those men did not mean well by her. With General Fitzroy, she had felt a new level of distress. There was something of ownership his eyes, as though she already belonged to him.

Jane repressed a shudder. The presence of the General; the drunken revelry; the outrageous talk all around her; and, heaven forbid, the wandering hands of some of guests onto the persons of their neighbors; left Jane with a deep blush all through dinner. Somehow, she continued to make polite conversation.

**P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P **

Elizabeth, on the other hand, was having a delightful dinner. In addition to members of the Ton, their table had two writers and a theatre person. She had been delighted to learn that many artists were scattered all about the room. The Prince Regent was apparently a sincere patron of all the arts and these guests always received the honor of being in the main dining room.

Elizabeth repressed a laugh. How insulted Caroline Bingley would be to find that such people were welcomed and honored when Miss Bingley would never even be let through the door.

For all the time that Elizabeth could keep her mind from Jane, she was rewarded with delightful conversation and much new knowledge. At the moment, she was learning from a master how he used makeup to change the appearance of characters on stage. Mr. Dresser was bragging about how he could transform the most beautiful of girls into the ugliest of witches. Elizabeth found herself promising to attend certain shows where she could witness his artistry firsthand. She easily added that she would do as he implored and come early to see such a transformation take place.

Darcy nearly rolled his eyes, wondering what Elizabeth would get him into next. Then he thought about it for a moment. He did not visit actresses and so had never been backstage in a theatre since Cambridge. He could not deny that he would enjoy it. Instead of rolling his eyes, a small smile stole onto his face. Once again this beautiful woman would enrich his life. There had never been a man more fortunate than he.

**P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P **

Henry Bennet, the Earl of Arlington, was at the main table, albeit far from the Prince Regent. He definitely wished that he was seated closer to one of his nieces or to Leeds. Henry still had much ground to make up before he was forgiven his snub of them and he knew it.

But, no such good seating happened. Instead, he had the great misfortune of being near the Earl of Matlock and that man's notorious heir. Their behavior and their conversation were disgusting. At one point, he had to remind both men to still their tongues about Jane and Elizabeth. He might hate Thomas Bennet, but no nieces of the Earl of Arlington could be spoken of in such a manner in his presence. Never mind that Henry himself had looked at both of them with some lechery in his eyes. They were comely women. If not for the fact that they were his nieces, either of them would have done nicely for a wife. They both had those voluptuously fertile bodies necessary to bear sons.

Henry kept such thoughts to himself as he chastised the Fitzwilliam men. The Earl of Matlock had been quick to offer apology. He claimed ignorance of Arlington's connection to the girls and begged that no offense be taken. Arlington did not fail to note the sudden sobering of Matlock nor the look of clear calculation in his eyes. Henry knew that Matlock was thinking about how he could make use of the new Matlock connection to Elizabeth and thus to Arlington. Henry nearly snorted. _None of your schemes ever work on me, Matlock. Dream on._

**P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P **

As the evening grew more raucous, Leeds was easily able to persuade Prinny to protect Jane by letting her leave. The party of four gratefully climbed into the Duke's carriage and left Carlton House behind.

Elizabeth's heart ached when Jane was all silence as they took her back to the Queen's House. How she wanted to take Jane home with them. It could not be.

**P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P P&P **


	11. Chapter 11

Sorry guys. Real life continues to rear its ugly head. Until I can bat it firmly back into its proper place, my Saturday posts will come late, just as this one did today.

**History Notes:**

The old expression 'mad as a hatter' comes directly from the effects of our friend mercury.

Hats were made of felt. Mercury was used in its production. People who worked making hats absorbed it through their skin and breathed in the vapors. Over time, mercury accumulated in their bodies and insanity was a common result.

The felt we see now often has artificial fibers in it, but it used to be completely made from various animal hairs. If you look at hairs under a microscope, you will see that they have tiny scales. With heat, pressure and lubrication, the scales loosen and then move and lock into each other; effectively becoming strongly woven together.

Legend has it that the first felt was accidently made when some ancient travelers lined their sandals with wool for comfort during their long walk. At the end of their journey, they were surprised to find the wool had knitted itself into socks!

Another story is told about how mercury entered into the picture sometime around 1650. "In Turkey camel hair was used for felt material, and it was discovered that the felting process was speeded up if the fibers were moistened with camel urine. It is said that in France workmen used their own urine, but one particular workman seemed consistently to produce a superior felt. This person was being treated with a mercury compound for syphilis, and an association was made between mercury treatment of the fibers and an improved felt. Eventually the use of solutions of mercuric nitrate was widespread in the felt industry, and mercury poisoning became endemic."

**/**

**/**

**Redemption**

**Chapter 11**

**/**

**/**

**Darcy House, London**

**February 24, 1812**

Elizabeth sat on Georgiana's bed, gently brushing out the girl's hair.

"What color dress would you like today, little princess?"

"Oh, pink!"

Elizabeth asked the same question every morning and always got the same answer. It was most unfortunate that there had been no pink dresses. Apparently, the old Georgiana had not favored the color. Well, today there was a surprise for her. Elizabeth had ordered several new dresses for the girl and they had arrived yesterday. All were in various shades of pink and all had slippers dyed to match.

As if on cue, Akers and Mrs. Annesley stepped out of Georgiana's dressing room. Elizabeth nodded to them. Akers motioned to someone in the dressing room and in a moment Minnie came out, holding a beautiful pink dress.

Soon the room rang with excited exclamations, laughter and tears.

/

/

It was almost tea time and Elizabeth went up to check on Georgiana. If the girl was strong enough, Elizabeth had one more surprise planned for today.

For nearly a month now, Elizabeth had made sure that Georgiana was up and dressed every morning. At first, just doing that much left the poor girl so exhausted that a nap was required. Now, Georgiana could eat, dress, take a short walk in her sitting room and still be smiling.

Elizabeth knocked gently on the door. Unsurprisingly, it was Akers who answered. Elizabeth's abigail had taken Georgiana on as another charge. Every minute not spent in service of Elizabeth was dedicated to the welfare of Miss Darcy.

"She slept very well, Mrs. Darcy. Minnie is refreshing her now. I think she will be fine for this little expedition."

Elizabeth's eyes sparkled. "Please ask Mr. Darcy to join us here and then check to make sure all is in readiness."

/

/

Darcy's eyes were also sparkling as he entered his sister's rooms. Georgie was stronger every day. She would survive.

"Brother!" Georgiana flew into his arms. She hugged him so tightly that one would imagine she had not seen him in weeks instead of hours. Then she pulled back and twirled!

"Brother look! My dress is pink. Is it not pretty? And look!" Georgiana lifted the edge of her dress to show a slippered foot. "They are pink, too! They match my dress!"

"Indeed they do. You are very lovely, my dear." Darcy kissed her forehead. "Now, let us take a little trip to another part of the house. I have the perfect place for you to wear such a beautiful dress and slippers."

"Outside my rooms? " Georgiana asked in wonder tinged with fear.

Darcy immediately caught the worry. "It is not so far away. I will carry you there and stay with you. It is perfectly safe. Whenever you are ready, I will carry you back here." Gently he tilted Georgina's head up so that he could look into her eyes. "I promise it is a very beautiful place, exactly perfect for a princess and her new dress. It will be a great adventure."

She nodded her consent. Her brother would protect her.

/

/

As soon as Darcy stepped from the room, Georgiana buried her head into his strong chest. She clung to him all through the trip and did not dare to open her eyes and look around. Suddenly, she felt moisture and warmth. She could also smell something. _Flowers!_

Darcy had come to a stop and Georgiana slowly opened her eyes. It was beautiful. Flowers and plants were everywhere and the sun shone in through large glass walls.

After gently placing his sister on the settee, Darcy stepped back and let the women fuss with blankets and shawls. Georgiana was smiling. They were all smiling.

So began the daily taking of tea in the conservatory.

/

/

Outside something caused Wickham to startle and wake up. He was buried in evergreen shrubs and further hidden inside a thick, green blanket. He had found the hiding place nearly two weeks ago. He worked his night shift at the stables, went to his rooms to sleep for a while and then came here.

It was very cold, but this snug little place provided a house of sorts. With enough protection from the ground, he was able to stay here without freezing. It was the perfect place from which to watch the back of the house.

His sleepy eyes detected motion in the conservatory and he was immediately wide awake_. Georgiana!_ There she was, smiling and beautiful. _Finally!_

**/**

**/**

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**February 24, 1812**

Mary stared down at her hands. They were tightly held together in her lap. She would not let her father see them shaking.

It was not easy for her to come here day after day and face her father's ire. Yet, it had to be done. Lydia was not recovering from her ordeal. Mary knew that she had to get her sister away from Longbourn. Both Aunt Gardiner and Elizabeth offered their homes with every letter. Mary would get permission to take Lydia to London. She would.

She had come to understand that her father would do most anything to left alone. Well, she would irritate him with her presence until he relented. Lydia's frightened face appeared in Mary's mind. It gave her the strength to meet her father's irritated eyes. She would be calm and make her request again.

/

/

**Arlington House, London**

**March 16, 1812**

The earl smiled as his secretary went over acceptances for the ball. Hosting this event was the final step in repairing his relations with Holderness and Leeds. All the men knew that the girls should be properly introduced to society. Holderness was too old to manage it. Leeds was too worried about his wife's confinement to burden her with a ball. Arlington had willingly taken on all the fuss and the expense.

It quickly became clear that almost the entire Ton was returning to London early, just to attend his event. He knew it was all due to his nieces. Fresh blood was unusual in their closed community. Everyone wanted to set eyes on the girls.

Getting to know them a little had given Arlington several surprises. The biggest one was that they were nothing like their father. Arlington had not gotten one whiff of the biting cruelty that so characterized his brother Thomas. Jane was everything angelic and sweet. Elizabeth – well, she was extraordinary; sparkling, witty and filled with Bennet charm. How Thomas had raised those two, Arlington had no idea. It was as though no Collins influence resided in either one and no Collins blood flowed through Elizabeth's veins. The sour face of the old Vicar Collins reared its way into Arlington's mind.

/

/

_**Euston Parish, Suffolk**_

_**June 2, 1761**_

_Jedidiah Collins had never been particularly nice, but now he was an extremely bitter man. An accident of birth had made him a second son. All his life he had been made to feel it. From afar he watched as his older brother received all the attention, all the praise and finally all the estate. Jedidiah received only an education. _

_The family estate had been tiny. It provided barely enough income for one family and certainly held no living for a second son. _

_So Jedidiah had gone to school, taken orders and been left to find his own way in the world. He was now an old man, but he never stopped resenting the fact that he was not a gentleman. He should have been. His blood should be carrying on through the ages as gentlemen._

_Instead, he had not even been able to secure a living for his son. It was true that Jedidiah had found a good position for himself. But the Lord and Master had sons of his own and this living would go to one of them. Jedidiah's own son was forty now and still eked out a miserable existence as a curate, barely supporting his wife and son. _

_Jedidiah's daughter had done better than that. She had married a rector in a wealthy parish. But even that ended badly with fever taking her and her husband away. _That boy never listened to me. I told him no one could possibly expect him to visit cottages where fever raged_._

_Jedidiah had been forced to take in their infant daughter and raise her. _

_None of it was right. None of it was fair. He still had such a bitter taste in his mouth._

_He looked out the window to where his beautiful granddaughter gathered flowers. She was sweet and lovely and probably doomed to life as the wife of tenant farmer. Fury raged in Jedidiah's breast._

_Suddenly, an enormous horse came into view. It was the Lord and Master. He stopped where Mary was. He dismounted. Jedidiah could clearly see his face. The old earl looked smitten. _Well, perhaps there is still a chance after all.

_/_

_/_

_Jedidiah became the most careful guardian possible. He knew that Arlington had been trying to 'accidentally' meet Mary when she was alone. That was not going to happen. If the old earl wanted Mary, he would have to marry her. The vicar smiled. He could tell. Oh, yes. Arlington wanted Mary very, very much._

_/_

_/_

_And so it came to pass. Arlington got Mary but he paid a price. The cost was an estate. It would go to Mary's first son. However, in default of heirs male, the estate would revert back to Jedidiah's own line. Yes. Jedidiah already had a grandson by his first born. Even if Mary never produced a boy, the estate would stay with Jedidiah's own blood. _

_His line would carry on through the ages as gentlemen, as they should._

/

/

Arlington shook his head to clear it. Forget Collins. Forget Thomas. Let those two nasty men go. He had beautiful and charming nieces to think of. He also had a wife to find.

**/**

**/**

**Darcy House, London**

**March 18, 1812**

As he slowly awakened and heard the sounds of his wife being ill, a broad smile broke across Darcy's sleepy face. He knew he should not take any pleasure in her misery, but he could not help himself. It meant that a child was coming. His child. Elizabeth's child.

He rose quickly and donned his robe. Elizabeth would need a cool cloth for her face and she would need him to carry her back to bed. Some more sleep followed by toast and tea would leave her set to rights for the rest of the day. By dinner she would be ravenous for food. Another smile broke across Darcy's face. By then she would be ravenous for him, too.

He heard her misery again. All his smiles disappeared and concern took over his countenance. She needed his care.

**/**

**/**

**Darcy House, London**

**March 20, 1812**

Darcy and Elizabeth stood arm in arm as they watched Lydia help Georgiana with her letters. Mary sat quietly reading in the corner, but her eyes were as frequently on the two younger girls as they were on her book.

Lydia and Mary had been at Darcy House for nearly a fortnight. Everyone had been relieved at how Lydia and Georgiana had taken to each other. Lydia was filled with a gentleness and care that Elizabeth had never seen before. Georgiana grew stronger every day. She now walked around the house as long as Lydia was with her. Mary shadowed the two constantly, always ready with encouragement whenever their bravery faltered.

Both young girls were healing and the whole house knew it.

Elizabeth was feeling a peace that she had never known. It was not just the tiny life in her belly that added to her contentment. Jane would come to them tomorrow. She had gotten permission to stay at least through Arlington's ball. Elizabeth would have liked to have sent for Kitty also, but she knew that was just a dream. Both Lydia and Georgiana were too delicate to chance such a thing. Mary had been very clear that Kitty remained enamored with soldiers and could speak of nothing else. Lydia cringed every time a red coat was mentioned. No amount of talk or scolding by Mary had silenced Kitty's tongue. No, Kitty could not be allowed here.

Elizabeth suddenly became aware of her husband's strongly muscled arm that lay entwined with her own and her thoughts took a new direction. She leaned over to whisper in his ear.

Darcy could barely withhold his smile. There was a great deal to be said for having a pregnant wife.

/

/

Lydia and Kitty were clinging to the newly arrived Jane in her rooms. Darcy was tending to business. Mrs. Annesley had gone off to run errands for Elizabeth. It all left Elizabeth and Georgiana on their own to take tea in the conservatory. They were both enjoying it. With so many people around now, time with just each other was rare.

Of course, they were not really alone. Akers sat near the door. She was always nearby in case her girls needed anything. As it turned out, Georgina wanted Elizabeth to read a fairy tale. Akers happily left to go and retrieve the book.

In the meantime, Elizabeth had seen some pretty pink flowers in the back of the conservatory and went to pick some for Georgiana.

Wickham had moved his hiding place to one closer to the conservatory's door. He needed to be ready. If Georgiana was left alone for a moment, he knew that would be his chance. Once he was able to speak with her, everything would be well.

As soon as that other woman disappeared from sight, Wickham was up, through the door and kneeling by Georgiana's feet.

"My dear Georgiana. How are you?" Wickham whispered.

Large doe-like eyes blinked at the man who had suddenly appeared. The love and care of all those around her had erased much of her fears of people. Besides, this man looked somehow familiar. "Do I know you?"

"Of course you know me. I am your dearest George."

"Look George. I have pink slippers. Do you see that they are just like my dress? And look here. This is my cat. I just drew him. Do you think he is pretty, too? I saw a cat, a real one. Elizabeth says he lives here to chase away the mice. I have never seen mice. Have you? "

Wickham drew back and stood up. There was something very wrong here. Georgiana's drawing looked like the scribblings of a child. Georgiana was talking like a small child.

Before he could think any more about it, a voice screamed "Help!" He turned to see a large pot being hurled towards him. He jumped back to avoid it and then scrambled out the door.

/

/

Georgiana was safely tucked into bed and firmly held in Lydia's arms. Mary, Akers and Minnie sat nearby. Darcy gently led Elizabeth out of the room. He had felt her trembling and knew that she was only keeping her emotions in check until Georgiana was settled.

He was completely right. He led Elizabeth back to their sitting room. As soon as the door was closed, she collapsed into his arms. He picked her up and carried her through to the bed. There he held her until she stopped sobbing.

She had now been silent for so long that Darcy thought she had fallen asleep. He was surprised to hear her voice.

"Fitzwilliam?"

"Yes my love."

"Will you teach me how to shoot?"

Somehow the request did not surprise him. Why should a woman not be able to shoot? Darcy would certainly prefer Elizabeth to have a gun should she ever be faced with another situation like today. Of course he would do everything possible to guard against such a thing ever occurring. Still, it was not a bad idea. He held back a shudder as he again thought about his pregnant wife and his wounded sister facing what must have been Wickham.

"Yes. I will teach you to shoot."

**/**

**/**

**Arlington House, London**

**March 26, 1812**

Little Lettice Blount was related to just everyone and so she was invited everywhere. It was torture, just plain torture. She did her best not to sigh as she ascended the steps.

She could already see the entire evening as it would unfold. After her mother finished embarrassing her in the receiving line, she would enter a glittering room full of glittering people. Mother would drag her by the elbow over to greet Great-Aunt Susan or Sadie or Sophia or Something. Then Mother would loudly hint about how nice it would be if Grandson Something or Great-Nephew Somebody asked Lettice to dance. She could see it now. The poor boy would be pulled by his ear, all the while digging his heels in to stop the forward motion. Then the boy's mother would appear from nowhere and furiously whisper that he must obey Great-Aunt Susan or Sadie or Sophia or Something. After all, there was the inheritance to think about.

Of course it would all be very loudly done. Everybody nearby would be snickering. Yes. Lettice would dance three or four or five times tonight and each time become a greater object of ridicule or pity.

If only she had a dowry or beauty or talent or wit or even a little height, it might not be so bad. But she did not have any of those things. All she had were relations. Long lines of second and third sons and daughters had given rise to the too round and too poor young lady. Oh, she was definitely a member of the Ton. Powerful aunts and uncles and cousins, all a few times removed, laid claim to her. So here she was, practically living in London now that her first two seasons had borne no fruit.

All she wanted to do was to go home to the country.

Just as expected, her mother's loud voice started up. "Stand up straight. No slouching. Smile. Bat your eyes when you greet the Viscount. Your eyes are you only feature. Well, your chest is one too, if only you would remove that tucker! Oh, if only you were more handsome!"

Lettice did not bother looking around to see how many people in the receiving line had heard. After all, it was nothing that had not been heard before.

Suddenly a gentle voice broke into her misery.

"Miss Blount. I am very pleased that you could come tonight. May I have the honor of introducing you to my bride?"

She looked up into the kind eyes of Mr. Darcy. To her further surprise, she was introduced to another pair of kind and welcoming eyes. Lettice liked the new Mrs. Darcy immediately.

/

/

It was not Caroline Bingley's first venture back into society. She had refused to cower in her bed and had bravely run the gauntlet of ridicule. Tonight, several people had smirked and whispered as she passed by, but it had not been so bad. That horrible afternoon at Lady Jersey's was old news now. Surely people would soon forget all about it.

Caroline would show the world that she was unaffected by Darcy's disastrous marriage. She would not be ruined. She would hold her head up high and regain her position in society. By the time that she had rid Darcy of that Bennet chit, the scandal would be nearly gone. Caroline's marriage to Darcy would erase the rest of it forever.

She had determined to be everything kind and condescending to Eliza Bennet tonight. She would show the world that she held only pity for the worthless country nobody.

However, Caroline did not count on all the excitement that the chit was causing. Why, people were absolutely charmed by her! It was not to be borne and Caroline could not hold her tongue.

"How on earth did he become stuck with Eliza Bennet of all people? What a country hoyden. Look how he stays by her. I am sure he is afraid to leave her for a moment. He knows how she will embarrass him."

"And I believe she is gaining weight! Poor Mr. Darcy. Now he will have a fat wife and ignorant wife to torment him."

Caroline saw Lettice Blount standing nearby. In a voice that was even louder than before she spoke again. "Perhaps we should introduce Eliza to Miss Blount. They certainly have roundness in common."

The two Bingley sisters tittered.

Lettice had grown a thick skin. She could withstand the snide comments made about her. However, she deeply offended at the remarks about the new Mrs. Darcy. Were the Bingley sisters blind? Mrs. Darcy was everything beautiful and had proven to be very kind. Lettice would not stand for this.

"Miss Bingley. Mrs. Hurst. Does not Mrs. Darcy look stunning? The whole room is speaking of her beauty." _There. Take that._

"Why Miss Blount! I did not see you. How are you? Are you ready for your season? What is this, your third?"

Arlington was close enough to have heard the whole exchange. Those Bingley sisters were monsters. They belonged locked in dungeon with his brother Thomas. It would serve them all right. How did they get here this evening anyway? How dare they insult his niece in his home?

Stepping up to the trio, he ignored the Bingleys and spoke directly to Miss Blount. "My dear young lady, what a pleasure it is to see you this evening. May I have the honor of the next set?"

Lettice's surprise at being singled out was overridden by her pleasure in seeing their host cut the Bingley sisters. Even if he was only defending his niece by the gesture, it felt wonderful to Lettice. Her shoulders straightened and she stood taller. "It would be my pleasure, Your Lordship."

She gave Arlington a brilliant smile, filled with full understanding and thanks for his set down of the Bingleys.

Arlington felt inordinately pleased to be on the receiving end of that smile. Their dances turned out to be very pleasant indeed. This little woman was intelligent and witty. She also had character. After all, she had defended Arlington's own niece. Suddenly he knew that he would be most pleased to know her better.

/

/

Fitzroy watched with increasing displeasure as Jane Bennet danced with that blond man. There was something between the two of them. Fitzroy could tell. He would not stand for it. Tomorrow he would speak to Prinny. No one else would have Amelia. She was destined to be his.

/

/

Lady Catherine de Bourgh, her brother and her nephew stood off to one side of the room. All three had pleased expressions plastered on their faces. None of their inner feelings were shown. The appearance of pleasure was absolutely necessary. They must be seen to welcome Darcy's new wife.

The Matlocks needed to do so to get into Darcy's good graces. They could not negotiate for Georgiana's hand if Darcy would not speak to them.

Lady Catherine also needed for Darcy to warm to her. She must appear accepting of him and his bride. Otherwise, how would she ever get close enough to the chit to do her harm? As she watched Darcy fawning over that usurper, Lady Catherine felt her patience waning. She needed to do something. If she could not soon get close to Mrs. Darcy, she would find someone who could.

/

/

Colonel Fitzwilliam watched his aunt. She was planning something. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head. He would need to move back into Matlock House for a while, at least as long as Lady Catherine stayed there. She must be watched.

It was too bad. He wanted to continue staying at Darcy House. Wickham had gotten entirely too close. Besides, he had been much enjoying the company of Miss Mary, umm of Mrs. Darcy and her sisters.

Well, enough of all that. Lady Catherine posed a danger right now. Fitzwilliam could feel it.

/

/

Elizabeth and Darcy sighed at almost the same time. They had both been watching Jane and Charles.

"They are much in love."

"They will not be allowed to marry."

"We have to help them."

Darcy stood silently for a long time. Even though it could have made no difference, he still felt great guilt for having warned Bingley away from Miss Bennet. How could he have been so arrogant? How could he have presumed to know Jane's heart? And now here was his pregnant wife, standing beside him and calling on him to do the right thing for two people in love. She could not know what she was asking. Royalty was involved here.

"The price for helping them will be very high."

/


	12. Chapter 12

**History Notes:**

We all know by now just what a snobbish place Almack's was. No one who had the slightest smell of trade would be allowed through the doors. Indeed Almack's was a bastion of the old guard who looked with disdain on the newly rich trying to gain acceptance into society.

The doors were guarded by the 'Patronesses.' They met each week to decide which supplicants were worthy of vouchers enabling entrance into the hallowed place.

Chief among these Patronesses was Lady Jersey. Given these facts_, her_ background should bring a smile to your face.

Lady Jersey's fortune was from trade!

Once upon a time, there was a family of successful gold merchants in London. Their surname was Child. By the early 1700s, they had expanded their business interests into banking. The bank they founded, Child & Co., still exists today. The family became wealthy, very wealthy.

In the eventful year of 1782, the firm was in the hands of Robert Child. He had no sons and only one daughter, Sarah Anne.

Sarah Anne wanted to marry John Fane, who was the 10th Earl of Westmorland. Whether Robert Child objected to Fane as a person or merely as a fortune hunter, I have not discovered. No matter. Child refused to allow the marriage. However, the couple was not to be gainsaid and eloped to Gretna Green.

Child was livid and immediately changed his will. Fane nor any of his sons nor any of their offspring were ever going to get the Child fortune. Everything was left to be inherited by the first _female_ child of Sarah Anne.

That little girl was one Sarah Sophia Fane. She grew up to marry George Villiers. He added the name Child to his own. Shortly after the marriage, he came into his own inheritance and became George Child- Villiers, 5th Earl of Jersey.

Thus Sarah Sophia, inheritress of a vast trade fortune, became the Lady Jersey we all know and love.

Yes, yes. I can hear you now. Banking is not exactly like owning a shop in Cheapside. Well, neither is controlling the East India Company nor is running coal mines in the north of England. It seems that the stench of trade becomes a sweet smell if the money involved is large enough.

Still I hear you objecting. It was not as if Lady Jersey herself was involved it business. Was it? Yes it was. She was actively involved in Child & Co. until she died in 1867.

/  
/_

**Redemption**

**Chapter 12**

**Grosvenor Square, London****  
****March 27, 1812**

Louisa Hurst woke with a headache so severe that her stomach revolted. She blindly reached for the chamber pot as illness overtook her. The noise brought her lady's maid hurrying in and soon Louisa was reclining in bed with a comforting cool cloth on her head.

Nearly two hours went by before she could think of last night's events without the pain in her head exploding.

/_

_**Arlington House, London**_

_**March 26, 1812**_

_Being cut by the Earl of Arlington was like being doused with cold water. Louisa was suddenly alert and aware. They had just been set down by an earl and that earl's name was Bennet. Great Heavens! What had she been thinking? How could she have insulted Arlington's niece at this ball? How could she have insulted her at all? Elizabeth Bennet was not a country nobody. She was the product of dukes and earls. She was so far above Louisa that even knowing her was an honor. _As always, I just followed Caroline's lead! Foolish! Foolish!

_Louisa could not be so hard on Caroline as on herself. Caroline had never been able to stand still for not getting what she wanted. Be it a piece of ribbon or a Fitzwilliam Darcy that could not be had, Caroline would strike out at the person who withheld her toy. Louisa had always known this. She should have guarded Caroline from herself. Instead, Louisa had just enjoyed her sister's biting wit. _Foolish. Foolish.

_Her shoulders slumped. She had failed her little sister in a spectacular fashion. _

Louisa remembered later seeing Darcy and Arlington staring their way. Soon the two men were joined by Lady Jersey. The looks in those three sets of eyes had been ominous indeed_. Oh, foolish. Foolish._

She had managed to remove herself and Caroline from the ball by feigning illness. It was too little and too late and Louisa knew it. The ridicule that Caroline had endured after that morning visit to Lady Jersey was nothing to what would happen now. They had angered powerful people and they would pay the price. Hurst would be furious.

/  
/_

**Darcy House, London**

**March 27, 1812**

His hands were suddenly bereft of the soft flesh they had just been enjoying. Darcy slowly came out of the haze he had been in. His mind knew what had happened. His Elizabeth had been as lost as he was in the sleepy joining of their flesh when her morning illness had struck. His only solace was that he had been told this would not last for her entire confinement.

He looked down at the part of his body that still refused to believe its morning quest was over. "You, be quiet. You will live through this. She will come for you later."

He lay back onto his pillows with a sigh. As his body quieted, his mind instantly flew to the less pleasant things that had happened the night before.

/  
/_

_**Arlington House, London**_

_**March 26, 1812**_

_Arlington had returned Miss Blount to her aunts and regretfully left her there. He had duty to attend. Darcy was standing alone and Arlington bit back a smile as he saw the boy glaring at a man who was dancing with his wife. Elizabeth had a besotted husband._

"_Darcy."_

"_Arlington. My thanks again for organizing this affair."_

_The earl glanced at the clenched fists of his companion and laughed. "Indeed. I am sure that you could not be more grateful."_

_However, Arlington did not do any more teasing. He was not of a mind to torture his new nephew. He was of a mind to put a certain pair of sisters firmly into their proper place. He took a step closer to Darcy and whispered all that he had overheard Caroline Bingley say._

_As the earl spoke, Darcy's eyes went first to the sisters and then sought out Bingley. There was only one way that this could all go. He felt a moment of remorse for his friend, but his duty to Elizabeth overrode it in an instant. Bingley had been warned to keep his sister under control._

_Darcy's eyes once more went to his beloved wife. "Elizabeth will want to give Bingley another chance."_

_Arlington nodded as he eyed his niece. "Yes. I have seen that she has a kind soul. It was a surprise, that. It is not known as a Bennet trait. Must be from her mother."_

_Darcy raised an eyebrow at his companion. It was true that the Arlingtons were known to be selfish. When Darcy had learned that this was Thomas Bennet's family, his first thought was that Thomas ran true to form. Now however, things were not so black and white. The man next to him had just rescued little Miss Blount from Caroline Bingley's barbs. _Perhaps some strain of kindness does run in the Bennets.

"_I do not see how the boy can avoid sharing their ruin. Perhaps if you stand by him and he casts his sisters off…" Arlington paused in thought and finally shook his head. "Be that as it may, the __sisters will receive no quarter. They have sealed their fate." _

_Darcy nodded. Caroline Bingley had gone much too far this time. Public insults to Elizabeth could not be tolerated. As soon as they knew of this, Leeds and Holderness be of one mind with Arlington. _And I will not pretend it is only them. I, too, will not allow these insults to go unanswered.

_From seemly out of nowhere, Darcy reached out and pulled Lady Jersey over to them. He pulled her gloved hand to his lips and gave it a lingering kiss. Wickham was completely right about one thing. Darcy could please where he chose._

"_My lovely Lady Jersey, the Earl of Arlington and I have need of your invaluable assistance."_

/  
/_

**Darcy House, London**

**March 27, 1812**

He would have to see Bingley today. His friend would have to make a choice about supporting his sisters or saving his place in society_. If it can be saved_. Darcy frowned. There was the added complication of Jane. If Darcy had to bar Bingley from Darcy House, then the two star-crossed lovers would probably not be able to see each other again. Perhaps that would be for the best anyway. _My romantic Elizabeth will not see it that way._

_And then there are the Fitzwilliams to deal with. What are they up to? _ Richard had been adamant that Darcy pay serious attention to his mother's family. That was another talk that needed to be had today. Sighing again, Darcy rose and went to help his poor wife.

/  
/_

Thankfully, Elizabeth's morning illness did not stay with her for long. Today was a very exciting day and she could not wait to get to it. As soon as she stepped out of her rooms, she was hit with the smell of fresh hot cross buns.

She entered the dining room to find everyone else already there. Over the delicious food, they laughed and planned the day. Coloring eggs won over decorating bonnets as the first event.

Lizzy took a last sip of tea. "Well, first we must all go change into something old."

Georgiana looked down at her beautiful pink dress and looked up at Elizabeth. There was clearly distress in her eyes.

Lizzy was at her side in a moment, reaching out to hold the girl's hand. "Do not be sad, sweetling. We are going to go and play with dyes and eggs. We must protect your pretty dress and your pretty shoes. It would not do to get dye on them, would it? It would never come out. We must not have your dress or your shoes ruined. You can change back into them as soon as we are finished with the eggs."

Georgiana still looked skeptical. Lydia immediately spoke up. "You know, I brought an old pink dress with me. I do not care if it gets some dye on it. Would you like to wear it?"

"Oh, yes!"

No one mentioned that Georgiana would be positively swimming in any dress that belonged to the much larger Lydia. It would not matter at all.

Happily the women all rose and went off to change, leaving Darcy and Richard behind.

Darcy's smile slowly turned into a frown. He knew that he needed to have a talk with Elizabeth about Miss Bingley, Charles and the Fitzwilliams. However, he could not bring himself to cast dark shadows over such a pleasant day. Tomorrow would be soon enough to tell her all.

Richard's smile also disappeared. It was time to have another serious talk with Darcy.

"Well Cousin, shall I ruin your day here or would you prefer to adjourn to the study?"

Darcy looked over at the footman on duty. One nod of Darcy's head sent the man from the room, closing the door behind him.

"Your father or Lady Catherine?"

The Colonel snorted. "My father and brother I cannot take seriously. We both know what they want and that they will never have it. It is Lady Catherine who is on my mind."

Darcy nodded. He had believed Richard when he had first come with his concerns about the old woman. Darcy had sent a man to Hunsford. The investigation brought back grave news. Lady Catherine did indeed seem to be short on funds. The estate was rundown in a way that Darcy had never dreamed possible. Even spring seed was in short supply. The year's harvest would be grim. This news had caused Darcy to dig a little deeper into Lady Catherine's affairs.

"I heard from Woolridge yesterday. He managed to nose his way into Lady Catherine's records. It is as we feared. She has spent Anne's dowry and then some."

Richard was not surprised. "I am sure that my father is at the root of it all. Somehow Lady Catherine's cleverness fails her when it comes to her brother. I am sure that he involved her in some of his schemes. Now it looks like she has lost everything, too. No wonder they are after Darcy money. Both Matlock and Rosings need saving."

"And you are convinced that she still means me to marry Anne?"

Richard nodded.

"Then that can only mean that she aims to murder Elizabeth." There. It had been said cleanly and openly.

"The only question is how. I propose that I move back to Matlock House for a while. I may be able to get a hint of what she is planning. Otherwise, we are left to guard against everything."

"This place is already an armed camp since Wickham broke in. Elizabeth is not going to like having a whole army with her everywhere she goes."

"Humph. You will have to talk her into it cousin. If Lady Catherine hires some ruffian to attack Elizabeth, she may need the extra guards. You also better have Mrs. Grimes keep an extra close eye on the staff, especially anyone new. It is always easier to come at someone when they feel safe."

Darcy was about to defend his loyal staff but he thought the better of it. Richard was right. The London staff was always a little fluid. There was ever someone new or someone susceptible to bribe or blackmail. A shudder ran through Darcy. _Poison. If Lady Catherine cannot reach Elizabeth another way, she will try to get poison into this house. I must get Elizabeth somewhere entirely safe._

"Pemberley."

"Beg pardon?"

"Georgiana is able to travel now. I will take them all home to Pemberley. There I can create real safety. There I can make sure that no one without loyalty is in the house. There I can protect her. There I can protect them all." _ Jane._ "See what you can find out at Matlock house. I am off to see Leeds before he leaves town. He may already be gone. I know he is anxious to return to his wife in the country. Elizabeth will not want to leave Jane behind."

Darcy had made it all the way to the door when he turned around. "And Richard, I know we are still searching for Wickham and I know you want to stay in London for that as well as Lady Catherine. However, I want you with us at Pemberley. Please think it over. And Richard, I think she will try poison. Maybe she has already acquired it and is biding her time until she can use it. See if you can search her rooms. Be careful."

/  
/_

**White's, London**

**March 27, 1812**

Darcy's meeting with Leeds had been short and to the point. Darcy would leave London on Monday with Jane in tow. Leeds would take care of the Prince Regent. Darcy smiled as he remembered the duke's words.

"_Let them travel to Derbyshire if they want her. I am tired of Jane being locked in the Queen's House. It is as if they cannot make up their minds to take her in as one of them or to be afraid of her because she so resembles Princess Amelia. I have had enough of it. Do not worry. Prinny has put Jane under my care for now. I am entitled to send her to Derbyshire if I wish. If the Prince Regent has any argument, it will be with me. Go. Take her to Pemberley. I will let him know where she is after you are gone."_

Now Darcy was at White's waiting for Bingley to appear. A note had been sent to Grosvenor Square requesting Bingley's appearance. Darcy would not call on his friend at that home. Darcy would never enter that house again.

A footman approached Darcy. "Begging your pardon sir. Your presence is requested at the front door."

Darcy raised his eyebrow at that, but rose and made his way to White's entrance.

A shocked Bingley was standing outside the door. His way in was clearly being barred. The doorman spoke. "Ah, Mr. Darcy. This gentleman claims to have an appointment with you and desires admittance."

Darcy blinked and the situation became clear. White's was being White's. Bingley's membership had obviously been revoked and now the doorman was not even referring to him by name. Be it Leeds or Arlington or Lady Jersey, someone had been very busy since last night. The seeds of Caroline Bingley's sharp tongue were already bearing fruit. _Well, perhaps this is for the best. At least Bingley will take me seriously now. Something needed to happen if he is ever to control his sisters._

On the way back to the isolated table that Darcy had picked out, he requested a brandy for Bingley. The man was in need of a little something.

After taking a large gulp of the welcome fortification, Bingley managed to speak. "My membership, it has been revoked! Darcy, what has happened?"

"Did you pay no attention to your sisters last night? How did they come to be at the ball anyway? I am sure that they were not invited."

"Darcy, surely you knew that they would join me at any such event. Can you imagine what I would have gone through had I left them at home?"

"Well my friend, what are you facing now because you did not want Caroline to have a tantrum?"

"My membership? My membership is revoked because I brought my sisters to a ball?"

Darcy looked in frustration at his obtuse friend. "Bingley, did you listen to them? Did you hear what they were saying about Jane and especially Elizabeth?"

Bingley shrugged. "Darcy, you know how it is. Caroline always hoped to be Mrs. Darcy. She is jealous of your wife. I do not even listen to her."

Darcy's anger rose and he struggled to keep his voice even. "You sit there and shrug. You are the person who brought Caroline to Arlington's last night. You are the person who did not check her tongue. You knew! You knew what kinds of things she was saying and you ignored her! That was my wife that she called a nobody, a hoyden!"

Bingley's eyes went wide. "You, you had my membership revoked?"

Darcy could not help rolling his eyes and sighing. "No Bingley. I did not. Our years of friendship prevented me from even thinking of such a thing. However, whether or not it has penetrated that thick brain of your sister's, you must realize that the _nobody_ I married has several very powerful families behind her. _They_ have acted as I should have. _They_ have obviously seen to it that one of _their own_ is protected."

Darcy sat back and watched Bingley, hoping that something would finally sink in.

At long last, all the color drained from Bingley's face. "I am an idiot."

There was no response that Darcy would make to that remark.

"What am I to do? Caroline will never listen to me."

Darcy reached for his own glass, drained the rest of his port, and stood. "You must choose. Things have gone too far. If you do not sever ties with your sisters, you are ruined in London."

He looked down at his friend. "If you stand by Caroline and Louisa, I cannot help you. They are finished in society. I am for Pemberley on Monday. You can find me there if you need me. Just know this… Your sisters will never have admittance to any of my homes again." Darcy gave his friend's shoulder a squeeze and was gone.

A stunned Bingley remained behind. _Jane. Darcy does not know how far things have gone with Jane. Oh, heavens. I need him to help me. What am I to do?_

But Bingley was not left to his thoughts. Now that Darcy was gone, Bingley was no longer welcome to occupy a chair in White's. He soon found himself outside and wandering the streets.

/  
/_

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**March 27, 1812**

Kitty and Mrs. Bennet were gone to Meryton. The house was entirely quiet. Thomas Bennet was in his favorite chair in the library, a stack of newly arrived books by his side and a glass of his favorite port at the ready. He should have been happy. He had everything he wanted. However, he was not reading and the port remained untouched.

He rose and went to the window. The day was cloudy and dark. It had been a cold winter and spring had not yet come to the gardens. Everything seemed to match Thomas' bleak mood.

He turned around and looked about the library. The fire was cheerfully blazing. The wood of the shelving and floors shone. It should have inspired peace, but it did not.

Thomas was unsettled, uncomfortable and restless. He did not admit to himself that he was lonely.

/  
/_

**Wapping, London**

**March 27, 1812**

George Wickham was tossing and turning as he slept.

_The sun was shining. George was small, just a boy. He was happy. He lay back on the grass, his fishing pole held loosely in his hand. Suddenly there was a sharp pull on his line. The pole was ripped away. He watched in horror as it was pulled into the water. _

"_My pole! Mr. Darcy! Fitzwilliam! My pole!"_

_George looked to his companions for help, but they were gone. A great peal of thunder rolled through the sky. Frightened, George turned to scramble up the embankment. But suddenly it was rocky. He slipped and cut his hand. He was staring at it. It was bleeding. Then a strong arm reached out and pulled George up and onto the grass._

_It was Fitzwilliam. Thank Heavens._

"_My palm. It is bleeding."_

"_Lucky for us, George."_

"_Lucky?" George was biting back tears. He did not feel so lucky._

"_Oh, yes. Now all we need is a cut on my hand and we can really become brothers, blood brothers."_

"_You would do that for me?"_

"_Of course, George. What are brothers for?"_

_Fitzwilliam reached for a jagged stone and cut his palm, too. Then he reached out to join his cut to George's._

_Suddenly, Fitzwilliam was gone. In his place was Georgiana. She was staring down at her pink dress and was crying._

"_George! Blood! You put blood on my dress!"_

_Georgiana's hurt eyes looked at George. Before he could apologize, her face started to transform. It began to have bulges and then they started to ooze._

"_No! No! Georgiana! I am sorry! No! No!"_

Wickham woke up in a heavy sweat, breathing hard. His nightmare was still clearly in his mind. Part of it had been real. George remembered. In his childhood, he had fallen and cut his hand. Fitzwilliam had responded by cutting his own hand, too. He had made them blood brothers.

But poor Georgiana, her face! Wickham felt his own face. He felt all the new bumps. He had seen them growing larger for weeks now. They were just like the ones he had seen on Georgiana in his dream.

"Oh, Georgiana! Oh, Fitzwilliam! Oh, what have I done?"

/  
/_

**Carlton House, London**

**March 28, 1812**

Fitzroy was heavily in his cups. Somewhere in his mind he knew his head would hate him when Easter Sunday services came early tomorrow. He pushed that thought away and looked to his companion.

"Prinny, I want you to give me Jane Bennet in marriage."

The Prince Regent eyed Fitzroy carefully. They had had this conversation before. Prinny was not so anxious to give his new and sweet little sister away to anyone. However, since Fitzroy had planted the idea there, it was constantly running through his mind. It was true that he had not honored Amelia's last wishes. That bothered him, ate at him. Maybe this really would make it up to her. "Fine. You have to get the Queen to agree, though."

"I will travel to see Her Majesty on Monday."

/  
/_

**St. Paul's Cathedral, London****  
****March 29, 1812**

The two Bingley sisters travelled to Easter services with only a footman as their escort. Hurst had not roused out of his drunken stupor since he had been forbidden entrance to his club. Once he sobered, Louisa knew there would hell to pay. Caroline most likely would no longer have a home.

For now, Louisa was once again ignoring her own better judgment and allowing Caroline to drag her to church. _At least I am prepared. Caroline still does not believe what is coming._

They were, as always, late enough to make an entrance. Caroline had spent at least two hours dressing. In what was sure a vain attempt at not drawing attention to themselves, Louisa had tried to get her sister to be a little more conservative in her dress. Surely it was much overdone even for Easter Day anyway. In this, as in all else, Caroline kept her own counsel.

As they walked down the aisle, Louisa did her best not to react to the shunning. All the cuts were designed to be seen. Friends and acquaintances alike met the sisters' eyes and then turned their heads away. Several people moved over to block entrances to pews. Not one person moved to allow the sisters a place to sit.

Louisa followed an ashen Caroline back down the aisle and out the cathedral doors.

_I tried to tell her._

/  
/_

Back at Grosvenor Square, Louisa listened as Caroline strode up and down the room, all the while cursing Elizabeth Bennet.

Even after this morning, Caroline would listen to nothing that Louisa had to say. Perhaps Louisa should help Hurst to sober up. Maybe it was time to have Caroline out of the house. _Let Charles deal with her. I cannot. Where is Charles, anyway?_

/  
/_

**Darcy House, London**

**March 30, 1812**

Yesterday, the Darcy family had enjoyed a quiet Easter Sunday. A sunny little room had been transformed to resemble a chapel. Darcy was grateful to the young curate who had agreed to do a private service for them. He did not want Georgiana to have to appear in public.

Later, the Gardiners had joined them and they all enjoyed a bountiful feast. Then tearful goodbyes had been said to the Gardiners and the household had rested to prepare for today's journey.

Darcy was grateful that Gardiner had supported his decision to take Mary and Lydia to Pemberley. _"I will send him to Arlington or Leeds if he comes to me to complain. Let him deal with that." Then Gardiner had sighed. "If only Thomas would assert himself that much on behalf of his daughters, it might give me some hope. No, Darcy. If Thomas does complain it will be only in a short letter or to the walls of his library at Longbourn. Take the girls and do not worry over it." _

Everything needed for travel had been packed up on Saturday and now the family only awaited the loading of the carriages. Traveling with his pregnant wife, his ill sister, three other women, everyone's servants and a small army of men would make for a large caravan and a slow journey. The fact that it would take twice the normal time did not bother Darcy in the least. He was happy to be headed to the comfort and strength of Pemberley.

/  
/_

On the morning of their second day of travel, Akers heard the sounds of retching coming through the thin walls of the inn. The same thing happened on the third day. Those noises were coming from Miss Bennet's rooms and the sound was all too familiar to Akers. She managed to ride with Miss Jane on that third day. By the time they had reached their final inn, Akers knew. All the signs were there.

Mrs. Darcy was too ill and tired to be disturbed by this during the journey. A day or two more would make no difference anyway. However, as soon as the mistress was settled at home, Akers would go to her with her suspicions.

Had Miss Bennet been put upon while she resided at the Queen's House or could her condition be laid at the smiling Mr. Bingley's door? Akers closed her eyes in pain. No matter the cause, Mrs. Darcy would now have to deal with an unmarried and pregnant sister. Would life never leave her mistress in any peace?

/  
/_


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you all for the wonderful comments. I live for them. Thank you. Thank you. Real life is easing up a bit and should be able to start answering comments soon! **

**History Notes:**

I find it hard to blame Queen Charlotte for her fictional negligence of Jane in my little story. Her Majesty had had a very hard time of it all. She had completely devoted herself to her husband and their family. She had been very busy. I cannot imagine birthing fifteen children over a period of twenty one years. The Royal couple had done their best to raise the children in a pious environment where duty came first.

Somewhere along the line, it had all started to go wrong. The King's ministers made trouble. Wars crept up. The American colonies were lost. The people began to hate the King. The heir to the kingdom was openly defiant of his father. Her two youngest sons died. Some of her older boys went quite wild. There was more than one illegitimate marriage to a commoner and more than one long term mistress. Rumors flew that one of her sons was even a murderer.* More rumors flew that two of her unmarried daughters had given birth.** Her youngest child suffered debilitating illness and finally died. And, to top it all off, her husband went mad.

She had withdrawn further and further into a smaller and smaller world. Now she existed mostly at Windsor Castle. There she tried to keep everything that might further upset the King far away from him.

Who could blame Queen Charlotte for keeping Jane Bennet, the image of the King's favorite daughter who was now dead and buried, out of their lives?

/  
/

*In the early morning of May 31, 1810, the valet of the Duke of Cumberland was found in bed with his throat slit. Prince Ernest Augustus (Cumberland) claimed that the servant had attacked him with a saber. (He did have wounds.) The Prince cried out and raised an alarm. When the valet heard the guards approaching, he slit his own throat. The Prince's strange story became the official version of events, but it was not widely believed. Cumberland went on to become King of Hanover.

**It seems certain that Princess Sophia did give birth. The other rumored pregnancy was that of the Princess Elizabeth. Historians do not seem to believe that she really had a child.

/  
/

**Redemption**

**Chapter 13**

**Wapping, London**

**March 30, 1812**

George stood in front of his cracked and dirty pier glass as he unwound the scarf from his around his head. The person who stared back at him was a stranger, a misshapen stranger. He slowly ran his fingers over the bumps and bulges that were growing larger every day.

He could still feel the eyes of his master as they had borne into him today. George had been mucking out the stalls. He was so tired that he had to pause and lean on his rake. It was then that he had felt someone's eyes on him. The master was already suspicious of the scarf. It was no longer the dead of winter. George's hat and beard hid a great deal, but not enough. He had to keep the scarf. But it had drawn the master's eyes and now the man was watching as George struggled to work. How much longer could George keep his condition hidden? He was going to lose his job. He just knew it.

Even worse, Wickham knew that the Darcys had left for Pemberley. He had himself prepared all those horses for their carriages. How long were they to be gone? When would Georgiana come back? In his current state how could he possibly follow them? He had no more funds and he was ill.

Even if he just stayed in London until they came back, how was he to live if he lost his job?

If only he could get to Younge, she would help. But her watchers were still there. They were always still there.

His head ached as his mind went to dear Georgiana. He knew that he was somehow responsible for her current state. How it had come about, he did not know. Did he give her a pox and then mercury ruined her mind? That was entirely possible. The how did not really matter, though. He knew he was guilty. Now all that mattered was staying close, learning how she was, seeing if there was anything that he could do to help her.

He could do nothing for Georgina if he could get no information about her. If he were to become homeless, he would soon be too weak to help her anyway. If he lived on the streets, this illness would soon consume him. He knew it. What was he to do? A place to stay, food and information about Georgiana were all needed. How was he to get all that? How? How?

Eventually George fell into a fitful sleep, plagued once again with nightmares about the Darcys.

/  
/

The answer to his dilemma was clear as soon as George woke up. Why had he not thought of it before? There was a house in town that he knew as well as he did Darcy House. It was an old monster with plenty of places in the attics to hide. Plus it held Georgiana's relations. He could sneak in, find a place sleep, steal food from the kitchens, and, best of all, he knew all the hidden passageways. He would be able to listen in on conversations. He would be able to hear about Georgiana.

Matlock House. He should have thought of it before.

The only drawback was Richard. George would be near a dangerous foe. Still, Richard would never look for him inside his own home. The foolish Colonel would not think George brave enough to come so near.

/  
/

**Grosvenor Square, London**

**March 30, 1812**

Bingley arrived home late at night. He had been three days at a hotel but the time alone had not helped. He wanted to head for Derbyshire and Jane, but he was not sure that Darcy would let him through the doors. He wanted to wash his hands of Caroline, but he did not know if he could carry it out. Facing Caroline never went the way he intended. So here he was, entering the Hurst townhouse, mostly because he thought Caroline would be asleep and he could not think of anything else to do at the moment.

To his surprise, the drawing room was aglow with light. He went in and found Louisa staring into the fire.

"Sister, I did not expect to see you at this hour."

"Charles!" Louisa flew into her brother's arms. All the stresses of these last days came out in a torrent of tears.

When her sobs finally stopped, Charles led her to a settee and got her a small glass of brandy.

"Take little sips. It will help to settle you."

Louisa did as she was bid. "Oh Charles, it was awful. We were received the direct cut from everyone. We are ruined. Hurst. Oh, he will be terrible to deal with. He was turned from his club. He has been in his cups since then. When he sobers…"

"And Caroline?"

"Charles, all she can do is blame Elizabeth Bennet."

"Mrs. Darcy."

"What?"

"She is Mrs. Darcy. You should not say Elizabeth Bennet."

Louisa wrinkled her nose.

"Louisa! Is that how you feel? Are you just like Caroline in this?"

"Charles, I cannot help it. I do not see why we should be suffering when that family was so awful. Why no one even knew who mothered those two eldest girls! They were not of our station."

Charles just shook his head. "Listen to yourself. You do sound just like our sister. We know now who mothered those two girls. The daughter of a duke mothered those two girls. Even Mr. Bennet is the son of an earl. You have known this for months. How can you still look down your nose at the Bennets? For Heaven's sake! We are tradespeople! You are so right. They were not of our station. They were far, far above our station. Louisa, what are you thinking?"

Mrs. Hurst seemed to collapse in upon herself. Only the crackling of the fire disturbed the quiet of the room. Finally, Louisa spoke. "I cannot explain it Charles. Since we first arrived at Netherfield, all Caroline and I have done is to make fun of the Bennets, especially Miss Elizabeth. It seemed so natural, so right. All those years, people of higher station looked at us with disdain. And then we were at Netherfield. We were the ones at the top of society! Charles! Surely you see that it was only natural!"

When she paused as if gathering her thoughts, her brother did not speak. He was too amazed. _Is that what rising in society means to my sisters? Gaining the right to ridicule those beneath them?_

"Then there was the wedding announcement. As soon as my shock had passed, I knew that we must remain the closest of friends with the Darcys. When we went to the Earl of Arlington's ball it was with the intention of being everything gracious to the new Mrs. Darcy. We had to regain our ground. Once we were there… Oh, Charles. It was not right. She was in the middle of them, just like she was one of them. That girl from that horrid family in that little town, she was…"

Bingley shook his head. How had his sisters acquired such high opinions of themselves? "Louisa, she was always one of them. We just did not know it. Even in Hertfordshire, we knew she was gentry. Without the dukes and earls, she was still a gentleman's child. That is something that we will never be. Sister, even then she was above us. We may have had more money than anyone else in the neighborhood, but we were not at the top of that society. The Lucases and the Bennets were."

Charles saw the stubborn pout on his sister's face. "Even now you do not believe it. You are as bad as Caroline. Louisa, you are more clever than this. You married a gentleman. You rose above your roots. Now you are throwing all that away…" He rose and looked down at Louisa's face. "Well, I am sure that you and Caroline will both face the truth shortly. The two of you have really ruined us. I shall not be surprised if Hurst casts you out."

Louisa blanched.

Charles made for the door and stopped to take a long look at his sister. Wordlessly he left the room. After requesting his hat and coat, he looked all around the entry. It was an old house, a fine house. It had been left to Hurst by some aunt or other. It had sheltered and welcomed the Bingleys into the society of gentlemen. But they did not belong in such a society, not by birth and not by behavior. His sisters had proven that.

Settling his hat on his head, Bingley went out into the night. There was nothing for him in the house he was leaving behind.

/  
/

A plan came to him as he made his way back to the hotel. He may not belong in London, but there was a place on this earth where a man's birth did not matter so much. He had money. He would be accepted there. Most importantly, no one there would interfere with his marriage to Jane.

Charles frowned as he thought of all the rumors of increasing hostilities between the new country and England. He would need to move quickly. He did not want these political forces to interfere with his plans. There was much to do. Some provision needed to be made for Caroline and Louisa. He must move his money to his new country. He had no idea how to take care of any of that.

He would see Woolridge in the morning. That man would know what to do. For tonight, even though it was very late, he knew he would not sleep right away. He would have a nice brandy at his hotel and read through the ship sailings that were scheduled. Something from Edinburgh would be perfect. He could pick up Jane from Pemberley and marry her as soon as they crossed the Scottish border. God and Jane willing, he would soon be married and sailing for America.

/  
/

**Matlock House, London**

**March 31, 1812**

Wickham had no trouble at all sneaking into the rear yard. It required none of the stealth he had needed to gain access to Darcy House without being seen. Matlock's servants were either too lazy or too few. In no time at all, George was snuggly hidden in overgrown shrubbery. He had a perfect view of the kitchen door.

Very little time passed before Wickham knew that something was amiss in this house. He had watched the rear of Darcy House for long enough to understand the rhythms of a great London home. Servants and messengers came and went. Deliveries were made. Kitchen maids and man servants went out with empty baskets and came back with full ones. Almost all day long, something or someone was coming into the house.

Matlock House was different. Wickham soon saw that bundles came out of the kitchen door almost as often as they went in. Even though his mind was working more slowly, it still did not take much to understand what was happening.

The servants were cheating the masters. Things from inside the house were being sold. There could be no other conclusion. George thought most of thievery probably consisted of selling off supplies. Meats, coal, candles and the like would come in from the market and then the participating servants would sell them off. However, he would not be surprised if he learned that a few of the house's silver candlesticks also disappeared out the back door.

This was interesting. This he could use. Perhaps he could have more comfortable arrangements than just hiding in the attics and stealing from the kitchens.

For now, he must remain stay in the shrubbery. He needed to discover which servants were making a tidy little profit from Matlock's pantries. Then he would know who to blackmail. He did not have much time. It could not be long before the stable masters got a good look at him and sent him on his way. Before that happened, Wickham wanted a safe room inside Matlock House and someone who would bring him food.

/  
/_

**Road to Derbyshire**

**April 1, 1812**

Darcy spent most of the journey riding alongside the carriages. Not only did it give him a good vantage point from which to look out for dangers, it gave him time to think. Removing them all to Pemberley was only a temporary measure. The Earl and the Viscount were irritants, but hardly dangerous. However, Lady Catherine and Wickham both needed to be dealt with, once and for all. And then there were Jane and Bingley. If they were ever to be together, they would need to leave the country. Was it treason, Darcy wondered, to help them leave against the Queen's wishes?

/  
/

**Grosvenor Square, London**

**April 1, 1812**

Unknown to Louisa, Hurst had sober for two days now. He had simply kept to his rooms where he could think. Without his club and his friends, his life would be nothing. It was time to go and see his brother. Randolph would know what to do.

/  
/

**Matlock House, London**

**April 2, 1812**

The housekeeper had to be at the center of it all. While several different servants passed packages out the back door and received coin in return, George had often seen a tall, angular woman nearby. She was well-dressed and had an air of authority. The coins were always passed to her hands.

It made perfect sense, now that he thought about it. To keep such a scheme running day after day, week after week, one would need the housekeeper. Someone in power had to be adjusting the account books. George paused for a moment in surprise. The formidable Lady Matlock had not seemed the type to let such a thing occur right under her nose. Wickham shrugged. No matter. It was happening and he was going to use it to his advantage.

The time to move into Matlock House had arrived.

George looked down at himself. He was a mess and surely he must stink. He practically lived with horses and their muck every day.

For the last time, he made his way back to Wapping.

The sun had already set when he used some of his precious remaining funds to pay for a hot bath. As soon as the tub was delivered and filled, George locked his door. Going down on his stomach, he reached under the bed and retrieved his old travelling case. Carefully he opened it.

The first thing that hit him was the delicious smell. It was heaven. It almost seemed like forethought had caused Wickham to throw his sandalwood soap into his bag, all that long time ago in Meryton. Now he needed it and here it was.

He caught sight of his hands and stopped what he was doing. It went over and used some of the inn's soap to scrub his hands clean. He did not want any dirt on his fine clothing.

Returning to his bag, he began to remove the items that he had oh so carefully stored in there all those months ago, as soon as he had acquired old clothing. The fine materials and the still white shirt nearly brought tears to his eyes. He lovingly ran his fingers over the soft wool of his jacket. These were the clothes of a gentleman, the clothes of his previous life.

He violently shook his head. He would not think about that, not now.

/  
/

Now clean and well dressed, George stared down at his boots. They were old and scuffed. No matter that. He would need to wear them until he was safely inside Matlock House. Then he could change into his evening slippers. He looked at his old greatcoat and hat. He could not bear to put them on, not on top of his beautiful clothing. The hat he stuffed into his bag that now held his old, dirty clothes. The coat he would leave behind. It would not fit in the bag. If he needed another one, he would have the housekeeper find one for him.

Then Wickham sat down on the spindly chair. He would not sit on that filthy bed. He had some time to waste. He needed for the inn to become quiet and for those at Matlock House to go to sleep.

/  
/

It was ridiculously easy to slip into the house. The servants had not even locked the kitchen door. Things were definitely wrong in kingdom of the great Earl of Matlock and George was grateful for it. He had decided where he would hide. The nursery apartments on the top floor would have been empty for years. The old maid's room was an interior one, without windows. George would even be able to have candles and not risk being seen.

He knew his way around this house. He, Richard and Fitzwilliam had played in all the passages. After lighting a candle from the low burning kitchen fire, George slipped into the servants' hallways and slowly made his way up and up. Finally he stood in his new home. There were no sheets on the bed nor was there a blanket. Never mind. He could stand one cold night. Carefully and quietly he moved the bed against the closed door. It would not do to be found before he had his protection in place. After carefully removing his good clothing, George pulled the thin mattress around him as best he could and drifted off to sleep.

/  
/

**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**April 2, 1812**

"Stop the coaches." Elizabeth rapped against the roof and called out her order. They had just crested the hill and the house lay before them.

She scrambled from the coach and strode forward to drink in the scene. In a moment her husband was behind her.

"Fitzwilliam, it is magnificent; something from a fairy tale."

Darcy chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her. "You have seen it before, my love."

"No. No. I have not. When we last approached… I do not claim to understand, but I have truly never seen it before."

Darcy understood at once. He suddenly found that he had a lump in his throat and he could not speak. How did he ever find such a woman? Where in the world could there be another such? Nowhere and he knew it. When he had first brought her to Pemberley, she had not even noticed the magnificence of the place. She had not wallowed in her newfound fortune. She had not even _seen_ her new circumstances. She had thought of nothing but caring for him and his sister.

How undeserving but how blessed he was! He placed his hand on Elizabeth's jaw and slowly turned her head until she looked at him. He tried very hard to put into his eyes everything that he was feeling.

Elizabeth looked up into his eyes and she knew how loved she was. Forgetting where they were, she pulled his head down. All they could not say in words, they put into their kiss.

There was a loud throat clearing nearby. Embarrassed, they broke apart and looked over to see Mary standing there.

"That is quite enough for now. It appears that we are nearly at our destination. I realize it has been a long trip, but save all this for the privacy of your rooms." She turned on her heel and headed back to the carriages.

Elizabeth giggled and Fitzwilliam smiled. They had just been reprimanded by Mary and with humor! Would wonders never cease?

/  
/

Mrs. Reynolds stood in the entryway, waiting for the family to come inside. She had received letters from London that told of the improvements in Georgiana, but fear still gripped her. The poor girl had been so near death the last time that Mrs. Reynolds had laid eyes on her.

Suddenly they were before her. Georgiana was smiling and giggling as she held to the arms of two young women that Mrs. Reynolds did not know. _These must be Mrs. Darcy's sisters._ Georgiana looked up and saw the housekeeper standing there. The girl flew into the old woman's arms. Both had tears in their eyes.

The housekeeper stepped back and took hold of Georgiana's hands. "Let me look at you, dear child. You look so well."

They babbled together, with Lydia soon joining in and Mary as always standing close by. Mrs. Reynolds was not surprised by Georgiana's childlike state. She had seen it before the Darcys left and knew from the letters that it had not changed. Nonetheless, Reynolds was relieved to see the dear girl in such health.

Finally turning to face her master and mistress, she smiled widely. It was true. The mistress glowed with what could only be a child. More tears started to form, but Reynolds pushed them away. After greeting them, she turned to her master and spoke sternly. "Sir, you must take the mistress to rest. I will sort everyone out and see to their comforts. Mrs. Darcy, there is bath water waiting for you in your rooms."

Darcy did not need to be told twice. His mind was still on the top of the hill, holding his bride in his arms. He swept up Elizabeth and made for the stairs.

/  
/

Once inside their chambers, Darcy waved his hand to dismiss Akers. "I will see to Mrs. Darcy."

Even before the door had clicked closed behind the faithful servant, Elizabeth was again in his arms. "Oh my beautiful girl, let me take care of you. Let me worship you. I cannot believe how fortunate I was to find you." Bingley flittered through Darcy's mind. _I owe so much to Bingley for taking that estate._

Reverentially, Darcy undressed his wife and placed her in the tub. After removing his own coat, cravat and waistcoat; he rolled up his sleeves and proceeded to tenderly clean Elizabeth from toe to head. Only after he had rinsed the last of the soap from her hair, did he allow his hands to worship her in a more carnal way. Covering her swollen breasts with soap, he gently slid his hand over her and pulled at her darkened nipples. Then he impatiently rinsed them so he could take them into his mouth. One hand wandered down to her folds. Every time that she neared her pleasure, he backed off a little. Finally, when she was writhing and moaning and begging, he concentrated on her nub as he suckled hard on one of her tender breasts. Her body stiffened and then convulsed as wave after wave took her.

She felt boneless as he lifted her from the tub and carried her to the bed. Someone had turned it down for them. Darcy did not pause to dry Elizabeth. He could not wait. His hands tore at the buttons of his pants until he sprang free. He plunged into her and Elizabeth moaned. For a moment he stilled and let all his emotions wash over him. This was home. This was the safe and welcoming and wonderful place inside his wife. She had not just saved him. She took care of him. She wanted him. She loved him. Not his position or his money, she loved him. There had never been a man more fortunate than he.

Then, Elizabeth began to move against him and he was lost to all but pleasure.

/  
/

**Bedfordshire, England**

**April 2, 1812**

Charles was content to watch the countryside pass by. He would miss England.

In a few more hours he would stop for the night. It had taken him two days in London to take care of all the business that was crucial. He now had tickets for passage to America in one pocket and a ring for Jane in another.

He knew he should be feeling heavy guilt for leaving Louisa and Caroline without even a farewell. There was little chance that he would ever see them again. But, Charles had known himself well enough to stay away from them. He would have blurted out where he was going. They would have tried to stop him. He was weak enough that they may have succeeded.

He was certainly no one's hero. Still, his Jane loved him as he was. Of that he was sure. Now he could only pray that Darcy would let him take her away.

/  
/

**Matlock House, London**

**April 3, 1812**

As evening fell, George carefully made his way to an old passage that he knew ran to the housekeeper's rooms. It allowed her direct access to the master's and the mistress's chambers, but George knew another way into it. Given the state of affairs in this house, George could not imagine that it was used much at all. He settled down outside the door that would give him access to the thieving servant. He blew out his candle and waited. He would approach her when he was sure she was alone.

/  
/

Mrs. Wright had relaxed as soon as she realized that this interloper did not want any of her funds. She had always known that her little scheme could not last forever. It had been going on for more than two years now and perhaps this was a sign that she should be prepared to flee. However, she had not yet saved enough money for her escape. This man's threats brought it all home to her. She would have to increase her pilferage of the more valuable items in the house. That she could do without her fellow conspirators knowing anything about it. Those funds she would not need to share. Mrs. Wright had only ever wanted enough money for a simple life in a little cottage back in her home village. She would get the rest of what she needed quickly and then she would flee this place.

She looked again at the man. Brief thoughts of murdering him passed through her head, but she knew she could never take the life of another. In fact, he did not look so dangerous. He was ill and misshapen. Perhaps even without any help from her he would not live long. Even if he did, his demands were few; a place to sleep, food, warm water now and then, and his chamber pot emptied. She knew he would ask for more, but what of it? There was nothing in his demands that spoke of greed for her money. He did seem to know the house well, entering through her hidden passage and choosing the nursery in which to hide. She knew he had some reason to be here that went beyond a place to stay. However, she did not want to know anything about it. As long as she could accumulate her wealth, what did she care what his reasons were?

"Very well. But if you are seen or heard, I will denounce you to the rafters."

It was an empty threat and they both knew it. Wickham held the upper hand. Mrs. Wright was secretly pleased when he suddenly became the perfect gentleman and pretended to defer to her. Perhaps he would not be an unpleasant guest.

/  
/

**Grosvenor Square, London**

**April 4, 1812**

Louisa was stunned. She should have expected it, but she had not. Somehow she had never believed that Hurst would really throw her out. Now here it was. She was holding the proof in her hands. The missive was not even from her husband. It was from his solicitors. She had a week to be gone. For the time being, he would continue to deposit an allowance for her into the bank.

Where would she go? Scarborough? Just as she sat down to pen an urgent missive to Charles at his hotel, the footman entered with another letter. It was from Charles.

Louisa ripped it open. A low moan escaped her as she read it. _Oh Lord! Charles had abandoned her, too._

/  
/

**Great North Road, London**

**April 4, 1812**

As Fitzroy's carriage slowly made its way to the edge of town, his mood grew lighter and lighter. At first, he had been most displeased when he found that Miss Bennet had been taken from London. However, his coach was finally on its way to Derbyshire to retrieve her. He had the permission of the Queen for his marriage. He had settlement papers signed by the Prince Regent. He had the special license in his pocket. In only a few days he would finally have Amelia as his bride.

/  
/


	14. Chapter 14

**Thank you for all your wonderful comments. Please bear with me as I continue to beat real life back into its proper place.**

**History Notes:**

-We already know that the real General Hon. Charles Fitzroy would have been a bitter man at the time of our story. He had been denied his love (Princess Amelia) while she lived and the inheritance she left him was stolen by the Prince Regent.

What you may not know is that the Prince Regent tried to appear to be honoring Princess Amelia's will. He actually delivered cart loads of essentially worthless junk to Fitzroy, pretending that this was all of Amelia's worldly goods.

-It is difficult to state with any certainty how much our Jane Bennet character would have known about sex during this period. Some people knew an awfully lot. It was the end of what is known as The Age of Scandal. It was not at all like the Victorian Era that was coming. Times were changing, but sex was still seen as natural. It was written about and people did indulge (as they have always done, no matter the times.) However, I choose to see our Jane as isolated and protected from all that. She was, after all, not a great reader and her education was carefully controlled by the Queen.

Someone like our Elizabeth might have acquired a great deal of theoretical knowledge while someone like our Jane remained innocent indeed. At least that is what I choose to believe.

**Redemption**

**Chapter 14**

**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**April 4, 1812**

Darcy woke to find his wife smiling at him. He reached for her and pulled her close for a kiss. Suddenly he broke it off and looked at her with concern. "Have you been awake long?"

"Maybe half an hour. I have been enjoying just watching you sleep."

"But you are smiling."

"And that is a problem sir?"

"No. No. But are you not ill?"

Elizabeth blinked her eyes in surprise. "I am not." She broke into a wide smile. "Fitzwilliam, I am fully awake and I am not ill!"

Darcy's eyes went dark. He leaned in and gently kissed her forehead, then her cheek and then her chin. He rubbed his forehead, temple and hair over her face and neck. Then his lips moved back to her chin, down her neck and then slowly back up to her ear. Whispering, he said "I think we should celebrate."

/  
/_

A sunny late morning saw Mr. and Mrs. Darcy in a clearing that was not far from the house.

"Oh, my!"

"Yes. Remember that I said there is always a strong kick from a gun. Now you can really understand what I meant. Next time you will be expecting it. Here, I will show you how to reload and then you can try it again."

An hour later, Elizabeth claimed not to be tired and insisted that they continue. She had just hit the corner of the target for the first time. She would hear of nothing but shooting again. Darcy knew her arm would be sore later, but could not deny her anything. He was watching her reload the pistol when she suddenly went still. She raised wide eyes to Darcy's face. "Fitzwilliam, please take the gun."

He did as she asked, but continued to look at her in question. Elizabeth's now empty hands went to her belly. In a moment, she smiled widely. "I felt him. Fitzwilliam, I felt him."

/  
/

Darcy had carried Elizabeth almost all the way back to the house. He paused and was about to again kiss the mother of his child when he caught sight of one of the stable boys running towards them.

"Excuse me, sir. There's a carriage approachin' the house. You said to tell you right away, sir. Beggin' your pardon, sir." The boy looked anywhere except at the master who held the mistress in his arms.

"Thank you, Johnny. You did the right thing."

With a quick smile, the boy ran back to the stables.

Darcy hurried toward a side door. He set Elizabeth on her feet. "Please do not fuss. I need to make sure you are all safe. See that all the ladies retire to an upstairs sitting room until I find out who it is."

Elizabeth nodded and entered the house. Darcy took off around to the front. The carriage was making its final approach and Darcy recognized it instantly. Bingley.

/  
/

Charles Bingley was surprised to be welcomed to Pemberley by a fist that sent him straight to the ground.

/  
/

The room was completely quiet as Jane held a cool cloth to Charles' jaw. She had seen his arrival from an upstairs window. The punch that Darcy had thrown drew Jane out of her daze and she had flown out of the room. Elizabeth followed closely behind, warning everyone else to stay put.

The Darcys were now closed up in Fitzwilliam's study, watching Jane tend to the unconscious Bingley.

"You hurt him."

Darcy merely raised an eyebrow at Jane.

"What if he dies?"

Darcy stared at his sister. "He will be fine."

"Humph."

Darcy rolled his eyes at Elizabeth. Yesterday had been an emotionally draining day for all of them.

/  
/

**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**April 3, 1812**

_Seeing that Elizabeth was feeling much better, Akers took advantage of dressing the mistress to tell her about her suspicions. Elizabeth lost no time in going to her husband. _

_As soon as the ill Jane was feeling a little better, Darcy and Elizabeth confronted her in her sitting room._

_They had initially felt a wave of relief to discover that Jane's situation was not due to being put upon while she was at the Queen's House. However, relief soon turned to frustration as they conversed with her._

"_I am sorry. Honestly, I did not know what was to happen. When it went so far… Well, first it was so nice… Still, I thought perhaps we should stop. Then I saw Charles' face. He was so… Well, happy is not exactly the right word… I do not know how to describe it."_

_Darcy could just imagine Bingley's face at such a time. He knew full well how to describe it._

"_But… Umm… Charles was so… Oh, how could I stop him when he was so much more than pleased?"_

_Elizabeth barely avoided rolling her eyes. "Jane! How could you? You do not have to do something just because it pleases someone else!" How many times had Elizabeth said that to Jane? Surely it was too many to count._

_Jane looked at her sister with a confused expression._

_Elizabeth took a deep breath. Jane could not be ignorant of what had really occurred. Could she? "Jane dearest, do you understand what did happen?"_

"_Well, not exactly. It did hurt a little, but he was so… Anyway, he held me so tenderly after. Surely nothing can be wrong with that?"_

_Darcy walked away to the window. Opening his mouth at this moment was not going to be helpful._

"_Jane. What you did… That is how babies are made."_

_Jane's eyes went very wide. "But we are not married!"_

_Once again, Elizabeth refused to let her eyes roll. Was it really possible that Jane was this ignorant? This naive? "No. No you are not. Jane, you have been very sick, especially in the mornings." _

_Jane was still confused, but she nodded. Indeed she had been ill._

_Elizabeth moved over to sit beside her sister. She whispered so that Jane would not be further embarrassed. "Your bosom, is it tender?"_

_Jane blushed furiously. "How could you know that?"_

_Elizabeth sighed. "It is one of the signs. Being ill in the mornings is another. I know because I am with child. Jane… I believe that you are with child, too."_

_Jane's eyes went wide again. Then she promptly swooned._

/  
/

Bingley began to stir. He opened his eyes to see the face of his angel. "Jane, darling."

Elizabeth had to spring from her seat in order to keep Darcy from punching Bingley again. Both hands still on Darcy's arms, Elizabeth cleared her throat loudly. "Mr. Bingley, welcome to Pemberley."

/  
/_

Elizabeth and Darcy were both silent as they sat by their fire that night. The whole situation was untenable. Leeds would be furious. Holderness would be furious. The Prince Regent and the Queen would be… Well, it was hard to think of what they would be. Marriage to Bingley was not going to please them. That much was sure.

And this wild idea of Bingley's of fleeing to America with Jane, that was sheer madness.

Finally, Darcy spoke. "I wish I could ride into Lambton early tomorrow. There is a solicitor there who is reasonably clever. If I knew that I could trust him, I would ask if letting them leave here against the wishes of the Royals is treasonous. I hardly wish to be hung."

Elizabeth did not faint or squeal or exclaim in surprise. She was an intelligent woman. She had been thinking about this. "I also do not wish to see you hung. I am afraid that while I wish to wash my hands of both Jane and Mr. Bingley, sending them off to America is not the way. I say we tell the Prince Regent everything and let him decide. I will not risk you, Fitzwilliam. Not for Jane. Not for anyone."

Darcy looked up into the fiercely determined eyes of his wife. He could have never imagined being loved like this.

/  
/_

**Matlock House, London**

**April 4, 1812**

Wickham was not foolish enough to actually sleep in the nursery again. He would hide well whenever he actually slept. It would not do to be caught unawares.

He had been unable to stomach putting on his old clothing and so he left his stable job behind. His world was now the attics and passageways of Matlock House, with occasional forays into the house itself.

He could not often watch, but he could listen. From inside the wall of the old Earl's study, from above the servants' quarters, from outside the rooms of Lord Matlock and Lady Catherine; Wickham could listen and he did.

**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**April 6, 1812**

The ornate carriage came to a stop. Once again Darcy had been altered that someone was approaching and he stood outside to meet them. This particular coat of arms came as a surprise.

"Fitzroy. Welcome to Pemberley."

"Surprised to see me, are you Darcy? Well, soon we will become better acquainted. We are about to be brothers."

"We are?"

"Indeed. I have come to claim my bride. Both the Queen and the Prince Regent have given the marriage their blessings. I trust that you have been taking good care of Miss Bennet for me."

Darcy's inscrutable mask once more served him well. "So, come in Fitzroy. You must have had a long journey. I am sure that my wife will see to your comforts."

Fitzroy held back his own anger. Darcy was everything polite, but Fitzroy had been expecting a warm welcome. He was honoring Miss Bennet with this marriage and all her relations should behave accordingly. Not only did he feel no genuine welcome here, but there was a complete absence of the proper delight that should be expressed. After all, Darcy was about to make an exalted connection. _The man should be fawning all over me._ Fitzroy did not take well to the lack of proper deference and gratitude.

/  
/

Fitzroy was even more displeased when that blond man was present at dinner. _What is he doing here? Surely he does not aim for what is mine._

Bingley most certain did aim for Jane. Darcy had been clear that he would not help them elope until he had permission from the Prince Regent. Now this arrogant man had arrived and intended to marry Jane. Well, Charles was not going to stand for it. He would steal away with his bride.

How to arrange that was a problem. Pemberley was heavily guarded. Bingley could not just take a carriage and leave with Jane. Darcy would be alerted and would stop them. There had to be a way and Bingley was going to figure it out quickly. The ship to America was sailing in six days. Thank heavens that he had told no one that it was to sail from Edinburgh. He would need to lay a false trail to a different port.

There was much to plan. Jane was the dearest thing, but Charles knew she would be of no help here. Her abigail, on the other hand, seemed to be clever. Now, where did Bartlett's loyalties lie?

Charles Bingley did not give one thought to the fact that if he was successful, he would leave Darcy in a grave situation. It simply did not occur to him.

/  
/

**Matlock House, London**

**April 6, 1812**

"You bloody, incompetent idiot." The Earl of Matlock's booming voice was followed immediately by an openhanded blow to Milton's face.

The viscount had to hold back to keep from reciprocating. It hurt, but he stood his ground and did not even blink. He would not give his father the satisfaction.

Milton's dignified response to the earl's violence went unnoticed. The drunken man had collapsed onto a chair. However, his tirade against his son continued. "First, you do not even get Darcy to let you through the door to his house. Now this! He takes Georgiana away and we do not even know it for days! The only thing you are supposed to be doing is making some headway with Darcy and Georgiana! You have gotten nowhere! Done nothing! Lucky the earldom is not under your care!"

_What earldom, you old fool? You have destroyed my inheritance_. Only since Georgiana's marriage had the viscount started to really pay attention to what his father was doing. True, he had been doing his father's bidding before that, but he had blindly just gone along with whatever the old man wanted. Even when Milton's allowance was cut back, it had not occurred to him that his father was making a mess of things. Focusing on the Darcys had not woken him up either. Georgiana's money had always been a potential target, but she was too young. Milton had been looking out for a better dowry, one connected to a woman that he actually wanted to bed. The earl's violent reaction at the girl's elopement was unexpected. Surely that dowry was only insurance while Milton looked for a better one? Yes. The earldom needed funds, but to this extent?

Reality hit home a night or two after learning that Georgiana was married. Some little knight at a card table had wanted cash instead of Milton's marker. That had meant the family financial situation was worse than he had imagined and it had become public knowledge. Oh, Milton had not let his shock show. He blustered his way through the situation. Honor was honor after all. The knight was an insignificant nobody who immediately and apologetically backed down.

Nonetheless, Milton had known the truth in that moment. The Fitzwilliams were in trouble and it was known. Georgiana's dowry was important because other great houses would not give their wealthy daughters to the Matlocks.

These last months had not been wasted by the viscount. He now had a clear picture of how things stood. It was true that thirty thousand pounds could save the earldom. It would pay the old earl's debts and still leave enough to bring the farms back into production. The process would be slow, but the coffers would be refilled.

So Milton had gone along with the Earl's desire to acquire Georgina. However, he had begun to quietly dig deeper into Matlock's dealings. Respect for his father had diminished with each new thing that Milton uncovered.

_Thirty thousand pounds will be useless if the old man wastes the new funds on another scheme. _

And then there was Lady Catherine. Milton was sure that the earl had run through her funds, too. She expected repayment by Darcy's marriage to Anne. _She will murder Darcy's new wife. She does not see that he will never marry Anne. _Milton had no particular objection to taking someone's life. If it was necessary, then so be it. However, in this case there was only danger and no chance of reward. Lady Catherine would never get what she sought. That made the whole thing very foolish. The family should not be further ruined by her futile desires.

The older generation was certainly making a mess of things. Perhaps it was time that they were no longer in charge.

/  
/_

**Lincoln's Inn, London**

**April 7, 1812**

"Mrs. Hurst, Mr. Woolridge will see you now."

Louisa clutched her reticule tightly as she was led into the barrister's chambers. Greetings were exchanged and she soon found herself seated across the desk from the kindly man.

"I do have some information for you, but please remember I am not representing you in this. If you want further assistance, you must hire a solicitor."

Nodding her head, Louisa managed to swallow the lump in her throat and speak. "I am a little lost, sir. Anything you found out for me will be of great help."

"From speaking with his solicitors, it is my opinion that Mr. Hurst will not be mean."

"He has always been kind, sir."

"However, it is clear that he will not tolerate being separated from his customary society. As long as that society shuns you, you cannot expect to live with Mr. Hurst."

Louisa lost a little more color, but nodded again. Woolridge looked at her carefully. He hated gossip and meanness of the Ton. From what he had heard, this woman reveled in it. It could be that she only followed her socially ambitious sister, but it could also be that she had brought all this upon herself.

Woolridge cleared his throat and continued. "I was given the impression that your future depends both on the consequences of your past behavior AND on how you proceed from here. Throwing off your sister was mentioned more than one time."

What little color Louisa still had disappeared. She knew that this would be the case. Could she throw Caroline out? She just did not know.

"Your brother's solicitor was extremely forthcoming. Mr. Bingley does not intend to return to England."

Louisa clutched her reticule even more tightly. She had known this, too. His letter had been clear. Still, she could not believe it.

"However, he made some additional provisions for both of you before he left. He gave you and your sister an additional ten thousand pounds each. His solicitor is officially your trustee, but he means you both to have control of your funds. All your sister's money can be accessed by her, as you can access your new ten thousand pounds. You should speak with Mr. Bingley's solicitor directly though. Mr. Hurst may be able to lay claim to your new funds."

_Oh, will I have anything now?_ "And my dowry?"

"Again, I cannot speak to future arrangements with Mr. Hurst. I got the impression that reconciliation may be possible, depending on your behavior and how society accepts you. Go and see your brother's solicitor. He is expecting you and may be able to help with everything."

Woolridge rose, letting Louisa know that her time with him was done.

"Mrs. Hurst, two last things. First, I was given to understand that you should not cross Mr. Hurst by staying in his house. Secondly, both Mr. Hurst's and Mr. Bingley's solicitor's recommended that you go, for now, to your aunt in Scarborough."

Again, Louisa nodded and quietly left the chambers.

/  
/_

**Matlock House, London**

**April 7, 1812**

Mrs. Jenkinson's response to Lady Catherine violence was not dignified. She collapsed to the floor and held her cheek while she sobbed.

"You will do as I say! You will! Once you arrive at Pemberley, Darcy will not turn Anne away. That boy was always too soft. When he sees my sickly daughter, he will take her in. Then you will pour this into that chit's tea. If it doesn't do the trick, you will see to that she falls down the great staircase! It is all so simple. Even you can manage it!"

Jenkinson scrambled to her feet and ran from the room.

"Come back here! Come back here now!"

Lady Catherine continued to scream as she followed Jenkinson into the hallway. But Anne's companion did not stop. She ran for the stairs and made her way to her room. There she locked the door before she again collapsed.

/  
/

By nightfall, Jenkinson and her belongings were gone from Matlock House. No job, much less one with Lady Catherine, was worth a hangman's noose.

/  
/

Lady Catherine paced her rooms long into the night. She mumbled about how difficult it was to get good help. She railed against Elizabeth. She cursed Darcy. A few hours from dawn, she was finally calm.

"I will take Anne to Pemberley myself."

/  
/

Somewhere during Lady Catherine's long night of complaining, Wickham had fallen asleep.

He woke suddenly and it took him a few minutes to figure out where he was and what he was doing there. Silently he cursed himself for falling asleep. If only he was not always so tired these days.

He listened intently. There was only the sound of some light snoring coming from inside Lady Catherine's rooms. Gingerly he began to stretch his limbs. While he listened to the old woman last night, he had decided what needed to be done. However, he first needed to make sure that none of his extremities had fallen asleep. He had to be in and out of the room quickly and quietly.

The wall panel made a small click as he opened it. Wickham froze. He let a few minutes go by. As he waited, he could see that the only light in the room was from a dim fire. Good. At least he had not slept through all the night hours.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the light. The old bag was snuggly under her covers. George took a pillow in hand and planned his next moves. Quickly, he straddled Lady Catherine as he brought the pillow down over her face. She tried to struggle and flail, but he had her trapped inside the bedding. Soon her struggles lightened and then stopped.

"You should not have threatened that nice Mrs. Darcy. She takes care of Georgiana, you know. I have watched her. She brings Georgie tea, adjusts her pillows and holds her hand. It is so nice to watch Georgie smile. She always smiles with Mrs. Darcy. You are very bad to want to take that away."

After Lady Catherine had been still for a very long time, George got off the bed. He then adjusted all the covers and the pillows. Finally, he closed the great lady's eyes.

"There. Georgie can stay happy now."

/  
/

Many long minutes after Wickham had left the room, Milton stirred from his dark corner. His smile could not be suppressed as he searched for Lady Catherine's little vials of poison. Her loud disagreement with Mrs. Jenkinson had been overheard by more than just Wickham.

This situation was so much better than anything that Milton had considered. It was all going to be so easy and none of it would be by his own hand.

Finding what surely had to be the poison, Milton pocketed the two vials. He then made his way to Lady Catherine's sitting room and out to her balcony. It was a simple thing to make it back to his own balcony.

After adding another log to his fire, he settled down with a small glass of brandy. Fortune was smiling on him. He may not have been able to recognize the face of the man who had just killed Lady Catherine, but he knew that voice. George Wickham was here at Matlock House and he had just eliminated half of the older generation. There was only one more to go. With Wickham's lectures to the dying Lady Catherine, it was easy to see how to make sure that Wickham would finish the job.

/  
/

**Lambton, Derbyshire**

**April 8, 1812**

Jane again chastised herself for being cross. Bartlett insisted that they had not packed enough and Jane needed another shawl and warmer gloves. This spring in Derbyshire was just too cold. No matter how many times Jane tried to get Bartlett to go by herself to Lambton, the abigail would not be moved. Miss Bennet must pick out her own items.

So here she was, looking at shawls. Bartlett had disappeared some time ago. Where could she have gone?

Suddenly to Jane's surprise, Charles was by her side. Quickly he led Jane out the rear door of the shop and lifted her onto a horse. He sprung up behind her. Before she knew what they were about, they were galloping off into the trees behind the village. Eventually Jane fell asleep. Charles woke her and helped her off the horse and into a carriage.

"Where are we going?"

"To be married." Charles slid over to sit beside Jane. He put his arm around her. "Hush now. You are tired. Take a nap and we will speak when you wake."

She was tired. She obeyed.

/  
/_

At the same time that Charles was spiriting Jane away, Bartlett was boarding a carriage. She had slipped away from her mistress and quickly donned one of Jane's cloaks and one of her large bonnets. Thus attired, she kept her head down as she approaching the waiting equipage.

"Miss Bennet?"

Bartlett nodded yes.

"Your maid for the journey is inside. Your trunk has been loaded. The roads are in good condition. We should make Liverpool in little more than a day."

"Thank you sir."

/  
/_

At the first stop to change horses, Bartlett bribed the bar maid. When the coach left to continue onto Liverpool, the woman now dressed as Jane Bennet was a complete stranger. A poorly dressed maid servant boarded the first post coach that came through. It was on its way to Derby. Bartlett considered that as good a place as any to become lost in the crowds.

/  
/_

The Pemberley driver and footmen had started to search for Miss Bennet only after two hours had passed. It did not take long for one of them to learn that she had hired a coach to Liverpool. The Pemberley servants made a mad dash for home. The Master must learn of this right away.

/  
/

**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**April 8, 1812**

Darcy immediately sent riders after Jane and Bingley.

Fitzroy was furious. He ordered his coach made ready so that he could go after them too. He would stop them before they could sail on any ship. Darcy told him that Bingley had admitted intending to sail for America, but that Darcy had forbidden Jane's departure until the Prince Regent's permission could be obtained.

"I do not believe you. He is your close friend. This is your doing Darcy. If I can, I will see you hang for disobeying the Queen and the Prince Regent."

/  
/


	15. Chapter 15

I am sorry that RL still rules my time. However, the new chapter is here! I am truly grateful for all your comments. Thank you.

**History Notes:**

People found out about cyanide a long time ago and it continues to be a part of poisoners' pantries to this day.

Among the places where it is readily found are the seeds of apples, peaches, mangos, apricots and bitter almonds. It is also found in the roots of the plant from which tapioca is made. 

In ancient Egypt, peach pits were sometimes used for government executions. A papyrus has been found that tells us that dying this way was called "the penalty of the peach." My reference says that you can find actual pits that were used in the executions on display at the Louvre.

Romans also used cyanide the same way. However, they used cherry laurel leaves to make a poison laden water to be ingested. Dying this way in Rome was known as "the cherry death." The Emperor Nero used the same concoction to knock off some pesky relatives.

Napoleon should not left out here. He had his soldiers smear cyanide on their bayonets during the Franco-Prussian War.

The poison does not leave us in modern times. Cyanide gas was used in warfare in World War I and played a big part in the Holocaust gas chambers. Even more recently it may have been used in Syria, Iraq and Iran. It was also used in 1982 when some Tylenol in Chicago was laced with it, causing seven people to die before it could be pulled from the shelves. We must not forget that it was also used in United States prison executions until at least 1994.

Most of the above information, along with a great deal more, can be found here: . /published_volumes/chemwarfare/Ch11_Pg_

However, the symptoms of cyanide poisoning are clear. If you die from it, the authorities will quickly know what caused your death. To the experienced eye, the symptoms would have also been readily recognizable in the times of our story. A knowledgeable person who wanted to make the death seem natural would not have used it.

/  
/

**Redemption**

**Chapter 15**

**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**April 8, 1812**

Reynolds' eyes were still focused on the closed study door when he heard voices in the main entry. Quickly he made his way back there.

"Mr. Reynolds, sir. Abe just came from the main gate. The Duke of Leeds' carriage is about to arrive."

"Thank you." The elderly butler was about to go to the master when he reconsidered. It had been a very angry General Fitzroy who had followed Mr. Darcy into the study. Reynolds was not sure that he should disturb them unless it was urgent. Suddenly he remembered that the Duke of Leeds was uncle to the new mistress and she spoke very fondly of him.

Reynolds quickly made his way to the mistress. She would know if this was a potential danger and she could choose whether or not to disturb the master at such a time.

/  
/

Elizabeth was just coming into the main hall as the doors opened to admit Leeds.

"Uncle George!" She flew into his welcoming arms. "Oh Uncle George, Jane has gone missing and Mr. Bingley is gone, too. I fear they are trying to sail to America." She whispered so the servants could not hear.

Leeds kept his face devoid of expression. He gave a quick but firm hug to Elizabeth. "Where is Darcy?"

Reynolds spoke. "Your Grace, Mr. Darcy is in the study with General Fitzroy."

"Fitzroy? What is he doing here?"

"You did not receive Fitzwilliam's express about the general?"

"No, princess. I only received an express about Jane."

Elizabeth once again lowered her voice to a whisper. "He arrived with a special license to marry Jane. He said he had the permission of both the Prince Regent and the Queen."

Leeds nodded. "Reynolds, show me to Darcy's study."

As they arrived at the doors, Reynolds was about to knock when Leeds touched his arm to stop him.

"Thank you. I will announce myself."

He opened the door just in time to hear Fitzroy say "If I can, I will see you hang for disobeying the Queen and the Prince Regent."

Leeds closed the door with a firm hand to attract the attention of the two men in the room. "A bit dramatic, are we not, General?"

/  
/

Knocking back a brandy, Fitzroy let the burning in his throat distract him for a moment from his anger. As the burn subsided, he realized that he needed to calm down and think.

After Leeds' arrival, Fitzroy had stayed only moments in the study. It had been all he could do not to let Leeds know that he should also be hung. After all, was not Miss Bennet officially under his care for the moment? Thankfully, Fitzroy had held his tongue. Leeds was after all a very powerful duke. For some unfathomable reason, Prinny was fond of him, too. No. In spite of the justice it would bring, Fitzroy could not demand that Leeds be brought to account. Never mind. It was Darcy who was really to blame anyway. He was the one who conspired with Bingley to defy the commands of Prinny and the Queen.

_Now think!_ Fitzroy's present impulse was to have his trunks packed and to head to London. He needed to make sure that Prinny would properly punish Darcy. However, perhaps he should wait here at Pemberley, at least for a day or two. Leeds might actually look for Miss Bennet. She might still be found. Fitzroy might still be able to leave Derbyshire with his bride in tow.

"Adams! Adams!"

"Yes, General?"

"Pack the trunks for departure."

Leaving for London at once was the right thing to do. The search that Darcy had started was all pretense. He meant for that Bingley to escape with Miss Bennet. Even if Leeds did mount a real hunt and she was found, Fitzroy would lose nothing by heading to Prinny. Leeds would make sure that he did not lose his charge again. He would bring Amelia back to London and to Fitzroy.

/  
/

**Matlock House, London**

**April 8, 1812**

Something was wrong. Wickham was about to open his eyes when he suddenly knew that something was wrong. He tried to keep his breathing steady and his body still as he let his mind come all the way awake.

Several minutes passed in perfect quiet. Perhaps he had been mistaken. Perhaps there was no danger. Wickham slowly opened his eyes. He found himself staring into the barrel of a gun.

"Ah my old friend, at last you are awake." Milton was comfortably sprawled across an old chair.

Wickham had been exhausted after his foray into Lady Catherine's rooms. He had decided to give himself a good rest on top of an old settee in the attics. He had found this particular place only yesterday. It was hard to get into. Many years must have gone by since these pieces of furniture had been carried up to the rafters and then covered against the dust. Many years' worth of other things had been piled in front of them. Wickham had thought he was so safe.

"Milton. How did you find me?"

"Tracks in the dust, my friend. Tracks in the dust."

"So you are the guard while I wait for Richard to kill me?"

"George! How can you think such a thing?" Milton chuckled. "You have it all wrong. Richard has no idea you are here and I am not about to tell him."

Wickham had confusion written all over his face.

"No, George. Relax. I mean you no harm."

Eyeing the gun, Wickham could not help but snort.

"Disbelieving are you? Well, it is true. I heard what you said to Lady Catherine in the early hours of this morn."

Wickham paled.

"None of that now, George. I am glad that I heard you. My father has designs on Miss Georgiana and I need your help."

For the first time, Wickham looked at Milton with interest and not fear.

"Georgiana? What does he plan to do to Georgiana?"

"The good earl plans to have Richard kill you. Then the grieving widow is to be married to me. Father wants her thirty thousand pounds." Milton lowered the gun a little as if to show Wickham that he was no foe.

"And this is not what you want?"

For just a moment, Milton almost answered honestly that he had no desire to be married to a child; a child who must be now suffering from a pox if Wickham's condition was anything to go by. Instead, Milton answered with what he was sure Wickham would want to hear. "I have no desire to marry Georgiana. It would be almost unholy. She is like a sister to me." His eyes did not leave Wickham's face. The man's mind was obviously sluggish. Milton watched George struggling to comprehend. When he seemed to quiet a little, Milton spoke again. "You can see that I am in a very bad position. You know that I will be forced to do whatever it is that my father decrees. You will be killed and poor little Georgiana…"

"Darcy will never allow it."

"That is the sad part. I am much afraid that he will. You see, running off with a servant's son has forever damaged her reputation. Who will take her once you are dead and gone? No. Darcy will see that marriage to me will restore her reputation and that of her future children. It may take time to convince him, but Father is very persuasive. Georgiana will be made to marry me."

"But her mind is gone!"

_Her mind is gone? Surely Father knows nothing of that._ "Her mind, Wickham? What do you mean? What happened?"

George closed his eyes in pain. "My fault. My fault. I think I may have given her a pox. Mercury. I think mercury may have hurt her mind."

_So that is why none of us have been let into Darcy House! All the more reason not to marry her. I need a healthy countess to help rebuild Matlock. And heirs. I need heirs. _"All the more reason to protect her, George. She cannot be married off. She needs to stay under Darcy's care, at least until she recovers. We must take care of her. But you know that, do you not? I heard you with Lady Catherine. You are protecting your wife, are you not?"

"Yes. Yes. All I can. I am protecting her. Mrs. Darcy takes care of her. She must be left with Mrs. Darcy."

_Fitzwilliam's new wife? Interesting._ "Well, my father will not allow that. He must be stopped."

The old George Wickham came alive for a moment. Milton could see the shrewd calculation taking place. "You want me to rid you of the earl."

"Of course not! I would never wish harm to my own father. Sadly though, his demise would leave Georgiana safe."

"You would be safe, too. Of course you would also be earl."

"George! Do not malign my character here! I will be earl regardless. Father is old. I have not so many years to wait. The worst thing that can happen to me now is that I have the charming Georgiana Darcy for a countess. True, I do not wish it as she is like a sister. Still, it is not such a terrible fate. No, George. I am thinking only of her."

_And pigs can fly! Still, he is correct. Georgiana is in danger from the earl._ "What do you want from me?"

"Why nothing, George! When I found out that you were here and so carefully protecting Georgiana, I could not rest until I found you. I had to tell you about the danger that she is in." Milton uncocked his pistol and stood. "And I wanted to tell was that you need to be more careful. Your tracks in the dust were too easy to follow. If Richard finds you… By the way, I found this in Lady Catherine's room. I thought you might have left it behind." Milton handed Wickham one of the vials he had stolen.

Wickham watched the viscount disappear behind the piles of discarded items in the attic. George did not move for a long time. He did not trust Milton. He had never trusted Milton. However, obtaining the earldom was motivation enough to account for Milton's desire to be rid of the earl. Besides, Wickham felt that Milton was at least in part sincere. The viscount had always been kind to little Georgiana. Maybe he really did not her to be forced to marry him. _It does not matter. Whatever Milton really wants does not matter. Georgiana must be protected from the earl._

Wickham brought the little vial up to his face to get a better view_. I wonder what kind of poison this is. It seems as though the good viscount prefers this to an accident._

/  
/

**Grosvenor Square, London**

**April 8, 1812**

Louisa withheld a sigh as she once again repeated her packing instructions to the housekeeper. They had never been able to keep good help. _That is Caroline's fault, too. No. That is not fair. I am equally to blame. I am the mistress yet I have let Caroline control all._

"No. Nothing except personal items from our rooms. It does not matter what Miss Bingley told you. And make sure only to load as much as shall fit onto one carriage. I will not be seen leaving London with all my belongings in a cart behind me! The rest of our things you can leave packed but in our rooms. Clothing is most important to go along with us. I am sure we will be gone at least a month or two. Our abigails should know what we will need. And remember nothing, absolutely nothing from the rest of the house. Mr. Hurst must find all as he left it when he returns."

The housekeeper stood silently for a moment and then decided that she had best speak up. "The supply of laudanum is running low."

Louisa understood perfectly. They had drugged Caroline so that she would not make any further trouble about leaving. Well, Caroline would need to remain drugged until they were well on the road north. "Send out for more. Make sure that I have a sufficient amount for the trip."

/  
/

**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**April 8, 1812**

"Bloody hell, Darcy! How could you let all this happen?"

It was a rhetorical question. They had been over everything several times now. Darcy and Elizabeth did not know how it was that Bingley and Jane had found privacy and time enough to create a child. However, they readily admitted that they were very distracted while at Darcy House. The situation of Georgiana had taken most of their attention. And, to be honest, they had often taken refuge in each other. There were many times when Bingley might have come and gone without Darcy or Elizabeth knowing of it. The house had been heavily guarded and controlled. Bingley, however, was thought to be a friend and ally. They knew it was no excuse, but neither had ever considered warning the servants against him. Neither had thought Bingley presented any danger other than a potential broken heart for Jane. It had not occurred to them that Bingley was to be so little trusted.

"Forgive my language, Elizabeth"

"Please do not apologize, Uncle George. Given the pregnancy, we should have assigned a man to watch Mr. Bingley. We should have learned our lesson that he is not so harmless as he seems."

"That friendship does not mean to him what it means to me." Darcy had only whispered this, but Elizabeth had heard. She remembered their conversation on the night of Arlington's ball. Fitzwilliam had been willing then to pay a high price to help his close friend and Elizabeth's beloved sister. He would have done all he could to aid them if their love was true and they wanted to be together. However, his close friend had not come to him. No. Mr. Bingley had defiled Jane in secret and now he had stolen away with her. He did not seem to give any thought to Fitzwilliam and the trouble he would have. No conversation. No warning. Just betrayal. Elizabeth gave Darcy's hand a comforting squeeze.

Elizabeth had to ask a question and finally found the voice to do so. "Is Fitzwilliam really in danger of being hung?"

"He should not be. Regardless of what Fitzroy thinks, I do not see how this can be considered treason. However, Prinny will be angry. For all purposes now, he is the King. You, and I for that matter, can be seen as willfully disobeying him." Leeds paused and waited until Darcy looked him in the eyes. "I am protected by the House of Lords. You are not. You can easily be thrown into Newgate or the Tower or even a dungeon somewhere. It will be hard to find you, much less get you out. You could be hung before we ever know what it is they are charging you with."

After a long silence, Leeds spoke again. "With sending more men to go to all the ports, we have done all we can for now to stop them. I suggest that we wait until tomorrow for any word from the searchers who went after that carriage. Then, unless you are prepared to leave England forever, we need to go straight to Prinny. We have to face this head on."

/  
/

As soon as the doors to their chambers were closed, Elizabeth flung herself into Darcy's arms. She was afraid. She had never been so afraid. She hugged him tightly to her, but it was not enough.

She was tearing at his clothing. She had to get at him, all of him. Darcy tried to help her remove his clothes, but her lips were locked to him and his own hands did not seem to work. He gave up and let her rip and tear her way through to his skin. He did not resist as she pushed him back toward the bed. His legs hit and he fell backwards, bringing her with him. His hands tried working again, tried to get her out of her clothes. But she was not to be stopped. Her hands and lips worked their way down his chest, up his legs, everywhere. Suddenly he was in her mouth. He fisted his hands in bedding to keep from crying out. Then he was bereft. He opened his eyes to see Elizabeth pulling up her skirts and moving over him. Then she was impaled on him. His mind briefly thought 'She still has her shoes on.' Then there was no more thought, although he could hear her chanting over and over. 'You are mine. No one will take you from me. You are mine.' He felt her clinching as he exploded.

Still fully dressed, Elizabeth lay exhausted on top of Darcy. "Mine. You are mine."

/  
/

**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**April 9, 1812**

An express arrived from London. Lady Catherine had died in her sleep.

Assuming Darcy was still free to travel after seeing the Prince Regent, Rosings would be his next destination. There was funeral to attend.

The house was strangely quiet as it prepared for the departure of the master, the mistress and the duke. Only the three dressing rooms showed any unusual activity. Akers had half a dozen maids working to add black ribbon to some of the mistress' gowns. Other than making sure that mostly black went into the trunks and armbands were at the ready, Thompson had little to accomplish except for normal packing. The duke's man had an easier job still. His Grace would not be wearing mourning. Lady Catherine was no one to him.

Darcy sat with his steward, going over estate matters that would need to be handled in his absence. He gave many more directions than normal. There was a possibility that he would not be able to return for some time. Honestly, there was a possibility that he would never return. However, that he could not tell the steward. Instructions for that would have to go to Richard.

A knock at the door interrupted them.

"Barnes is here sir."

"Thank you. I will be right there."

Leaving his steward at the desk, Darcy strode out to meet this special man. The immaculate Master of Pemberley warmly shook hands with the huge farmer who waited for him in the entryway.

"Barnes. Thank Heavens they found you. Come. Take a little walk with me."

The two men went out the front doors. Darcy seemed small next to his companion.

The quiet conversation took place far from prying ears. When Darcy was finished and Barnes had asked all the needed questions, he put his hand on his Darcy's shoulder. Barnes looked like a father talking to his young boy. "Don't you worry none, Master Fitzwilliam. I'll send for me brother, too. Those three girls will be safe."

"God bless you Barnes. Come back with me. I need to introduce you to Miss Mary."

/  
/

Elizabeth was with Mary and Mrs. Reynolds. If the Darcy were to be arrested in London, these two women would have to take care of the girls for what could be a very long time. Elizabeth prayed that Colonel Fitzwilliam would soon be able to come to Pemberley.

Darcy interrupted the women and asked to borrow Mary for a few minutes.

Once in the hallway, Mary looked up at the man who towered over her brother. He was rough and huge and scarred. He should have been terrifying to the small woman. But she looked directly into his eyes and found that she had nothing to fear.

"Miss Mary, this is Mr. Barnes. His brother will come soon, too. They own their own farm near here, but their family has guarded our family since before the beginning of time. Please trust them above all others. Do anything they tell you to do."

Mary continued to look into Barnes' eyes. She knew somehow that this man would protect them all with his life.

Barnes was impressed when Mary looked him in the eyes. He was truly touched when she reached out and gave his arm a squeeze. Most women of quality recoiled from him. He was even more touched when her words echoed those he had just heard from Darcy.

"God bless you, sir."

/  
/

Leeds had already sent all the expresses that he could think of. For now, he simply pretended to read while his mind considered the coming meeting with Prinny. It was too bad that Fitzroy had left yesterday. However, it could not be helped. They needed to wait for some information on the search for Jane and Bingley. As soon as that came, they would be off.

Word finally came. It was confirmed that the carriage carrying Jane was headed to Liverpool. The searchers remained in pursuit. For now, that information would have to do.

/  
/

**Edinburgh, Scotland**

**April 11, 1812**

Bartlett could not believe it. She had actually caught a mail coach north and had arrived in Edinburgh hours before the ship was set to sail. She had been so afraid that she would miss this ship and have to travel by herself. That was something that she had truly feared. However, she had been lucky and she was here on time. She relaxed for a moment in her bath at an inn. Boarding the ship would be so much easier now that she would be cleaned up and looking something like her normal self.

She shook her head in wonder. She still did not really believe that she had chosen to help Miss Bennet instead of following orders from the Queen. Well, she had done it and was not going to regret it. None of them had looked out for Miss Jane. The poor girl did fancy herself in love with Mr. Bingley and she did carry his child. If the dear angel did stay in England, she would surely be married off to that Fitzroy. Bartlett knew some things about that man. He was fixated on the dead Princess Amelia. He thought Miss Jane just the Princess come back and he would not stop until he had her. It had been a common subject among the servants. Yes. Bartlett was sure that the general would take Miss Jane, child or no. However, the child would have disappeared as soon as it was born. Fitzroy would not have raised it in his house. Bartlett was sure of that, too. Then, her mistress would have been really crushed.

Some little doubt entered Bartlett's mind. Perhaps she should have gone to Mr. or Mrs. Darcy. No. It did not good to dwell on what was done.

Bartlett rose from her bath. It was time to get dressed and head for the ship. _A new life in the new world. _She had never considered such a thing. It was exciting.

/  
/

On the evening tide, a ship headed to the Americas set sail. Under the name of Smith, the new Mr. and Mrs. Bingley were accompanied by Bartlett as they watched the Scottish shore recede.

/  
/

**Highgate, Great North Road**

**April 11, 1812**

Darcy could see that they were being surrounded by Royal livery even before the coach came to a stop. He gathered his wife's hands to his chest. "Go to Darcy House. Send for Fitzwilliam at once. Then, wait there for word from Leeds."

Suddenly the coach was slowing and Elizabeth understood what was happening. "Oh no! Take me with you! Do not leave me!"

Darcy pulled her to him. "Hush, my love. You cannot follow now." He rubbed his hand over her stomach. "Take care of our child."

There was a desperate kiss before the carriage door opened.

"Mr. Darcy, sir. Please come with us."

With one last look at Elizabeth, he was out the door and gone.

/  
/

Leeds could do little but watch as Darcy was taken away. He could not publically challenge the Royal guards. He sent three of his outriders to follow them and find out where they took Darcy. One was to report back to Osborne House, another to come and look for him at Carlton House, and the third to wait for him at Darcy House.

He walked slowly over to the Darcy carriage. Opening the door, he saw Akers holding the hands of her mistress.

"Elizabeth." No response. She was in shock. Leeds looked at the abigail. "Akers, I have not seen you in sometime."

"No, Your Grace. I believe the last time was at the Gardiner's house some years ago." Akers had seen the duke at Pemberley as the carriages were preparing to leave. Apparently he had not noticed her. She was not offended. A good servant was used to being invisible.

"Akers, take our girl to Darcy House. Make sure that she stays there until I come."

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Take good care of her."

"I will, Your Grace.

"You always have. Thank you."

As Leeds stepped back from the carriage, he saw that the incident had drawn quite a crowd. _It will be all over London by morning._

/  
/

**Darcy House, London**

**April 11, 1812**

When Leeds arrived at Darcy House, he found Colonel Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth in the entry. Leeds pulled his niece into his arms.

"Newgate. They have taken him to Newgate."

"And the Regent?"

"Nothing. I waited hours, but he would not see me. He was 'from home.' Ha."

Richard nodded. "Still, Newgate is not so bad. We can bribe our way in there. At least we will be able to see him."

Leeds gave Elizabeth a kiss on her forehead. "Colonel Fitzwilliam is right my dear. Newgate is the best we could have hoped for. I have men there now to see to it that Darcy is in comfortable quarters and that he has something to eat. We will make sure he does not suffer while we are getting him out. And we will get him out. I will go back to Prinny now. Even he will give in if he has a duke sleeping in his entry hall."

Leeds met Fitzwilliam's eyes over the top of Elizabeth's head. Leeds was not nearly as confidant as he was leading Elizabeth to believe and Fitzwilliam needed to know it.

"Yes, Elizabeth. Please try not to worry. Promise me that you will lie down for a while and I will go to Newgate myself. I promise I will wake you when I return."

Leeds nodded to Fitzwilliam. The duke could not go there himself at the moment and he was pleased that Fitzwilliam would do so this night. Then Leeds looked down at his niece. "He is right Elizabeth. You need to rest now. I will come back, too. For me, it will probably not be until tomorrow. I expect Prinny to be stubborn, but he will see me."

/  
/

**Matlock House, London**

**April 12, 1812**

It was only mid-morning, but the Earl of Matlock quickly downed a glass of his favorite port. Moments later, he felt weak and dizzy. His head was aching. He leaned back in his chair and was soon unconscious.

As soon as the old man appeared to have stopped moving, Wickham came from behind the settee and walked over to the earl. He was breathing rapidly, but was otherwise still. Wickham picked up the port decanter and poured the rest of it into a potted plant. He then opened the panel in the wall, just in case he needed a quick exit. He returned to the earl. Wickham stood and watched as the earl's skin turned a bright cherry red. The old man finally stopped breathing.

Wickham was about to leave when he saw the morning paper. He picked it up and took it with him. The old earl would not need it now.

Wickham went back into the passages. He put the paper into his small bag and then slowly made his way toward a side door of the house. It would not do to stay here anymore. Wickham was not nearly as stupid as the viscount seemed to believe. Milton would blame the poisoning on him for sure.

Wondering where he would go, Wickham thought that maybe he could sneak his way into Darcy's attics for a while. After all, they were still at Pemberley. If not, he would find somewhere to sleep.

He smiled as he felt his way along the familiar passage. At least Georgiana had one less thing to worry about now.

/  
/


	16. Chapter 16

**History Notes:**

**Newgate Prison** got its name in a very simple way. The Great London Wall was built by the Romans sometime around the year 200. It originally had four gates for access to the city. It was not long before a growing and changing Londinium cried out for another gate. Thus a _new gate_ was built. By the medieval period, there would be seven gates in the London Wall.

It is thought that there was a gaol at Newgate from very early on. It would have been handy for tossing miscreants into as they tried to make their way into or out of London.

However, the first real Newgate Prison was erected around 1188. This monstrous place was destroyed in the great London fire of 1666 and was promptly rebuilt. Thankfully the new place, which was without sanitation or good water or airflow, did not last as long as its predecessor. Sometime around 1770 the keeper of the prison lost his second set of servants to gaol-distemper. (Remember Typhus from an earlier chapter?) Dead prisoners were taken out by the cart load and people were also dying in the Old Bailey next door. Finally, enough was enough. The old place was torn down and a new prison was completed around 1782.

This was the Newgate Prison in which our Mr. Darcy finds himself in April of 1812.

It was still a nasty place, but better than the one before it. Prison reform was already being talked of in England. However, at the time that Darcy was there, those that could not pay their way into better accommodations were all still thrown together. I cannot even confirm that women had a separate area at this point. However, much would change in 1817 when a new keeper took over, one Mr. Brown. He paid attention 'to age and sex, and to the various degrees of depravity and crime…"* The way people were housed and treated inside Newgate Prison did change.

*You can read more about Mr. Brown and the prison at the following link. You can also see a diagram of the how the prison was laid out in the 1830's.

** . /books?id=vpw5AAAAcAAJ&pg=PA102&dq#v=onepage&q&f=false**

**/  
/**

**And now, please forgive me. **I did not do any research on how a boy from the streets of London would have spoken in 1812. What you will read is strictly made up. Sorry.

**/  
/**

**Redemption**

**Chapter 16**

**Newgate Prison, London**

**April 12, 1812**

Colonel Fitzwilliam launched into inane chatter as they approached the towering prison walls. These were a formidable sight for even him. He wanted to make sure that Mrs. Darcy did not get a good look at them. The condition in which she was going to find Darcy was bad enough.

It had taken both his money and his rank to get inside last night. Once the gates had been locked, they were meant to stay that way. However, Richard was the son of an earl and a war hero. Still, he thought it was mostly his coin that had finally gotten him in to see his cousin.

Darcy had been much worse for the wear. His few hours inside Newgate had not been easy. Thank goodness that the Duke's men had arrived when they did. Darcy had brushed it off, stating that thanks to an urchin, things had already been under control. Richard had raised a quizzical eyebrow at that. The lump on Darcy's head, the black eye, the stitches on his jaw and the swollen, surely broken hand made the Colonel question just how under control things had been.

**/  
/**

_**Newgate Prison, London**_

_**April 11, 1812**_

_After a search for weapons, Darcy found himself led across a yard and into a large room that was crowded with dregs of humanity. He had not expected this. Indeed he had been surprised to arrive at Newgate at all. From the first appearance of the Royal troops, Darcy had been envisioning a cold set of stone rooms inside the Tower. Barring that, he had feared a small and dank cell in the same place. Even when the looming walls of Newgate approached, Darcy had not foreseen this. It was unheard of for someone of his wealth and family to be held in the general ranks of prisoners. Perhaps this was a message from the Prince Regent. That thought made Darcy go cold._

_A commotion next to him caught his attention. A big man had a little urchin's arms twisted behind his back. The man was dragging the boy away, but not without a fight. Whatever the big man intended, it did not bode well for the boy. Darcy could not let this situation stand. No matter where he was, he was still Fitzwilliam Darcy._

_He grabbed the big man with a choke hold. "Let the boy go."_

_The man froze for a moment, and then let loose the child. Darcy released him. The man took a step away and then turned to look at who had dared to interfere. _

"_Nice coat, Your Lordship. I'll be takin' it now. If you don' mind, sir. Nice lookin' ring too, sir. I'll be havin' that as well."_

My ring! Why did I not leave my ring behind? My watch, too. Why did the prison guards not store them away? Surely valuables are stored against the day one is released.

_However, the dead eyes that were now staring him down did not allow Darcy any more questions at the moment. Not really believing it would work, he gave the man his most stern glare. _

_It did not work._

"_Well sir, I did ask polite and all." _

_Darcy saw a flash of silver and felt a sting on his jaw. But Darcy was quick, too. He already had a hold on the man's knife arm. He gave it a powerful twist and was rewarded with hearing the knife skitter across the floor. A bare-handed fight was now on. In a few minutes, Darcy knew that he was losing. He was trained, strong and in good physical condition. His opponent, however, was stronger. _

_Darcy was slammed headfirst into a stone wall. He was dazed for a moment. Blinking, he tried to clear his eyes and his mind. Suddenly he knew that too much time had gone by. His opponent should have already moved in for the kill._

_As Darcy's vision cleared, he saw that the boy he had saved now held a knife to the man's neck. _

"_I got my knife now and yourn. You be nice Mr. Smith and leave me and this here gentleman alone. You bother me again and I'll slit this neck while you is sleepin'. I's already to hang. Won't hurt me none to kill ya."_

_The circle of men and boys that had formed to watch the fun was now totally quiet. Smith nodded and the boy stepped out of striking range as soon as he released the big man. Smith grumbled, glared and then walked away. He paused only to strike two men who had dared look him in the eye._

_Darcy leaned back against the wall and slid to the ground. The urchin came and sat next to him._

"_Thank you, young man. I am afraid that this may cause more trouble for you."_

"_Don't be worryin' none about me, sir. It be me own fault that Smith got ahol' of me. Don't be doin' to let your guard down here. And I's the one to be thankin' you, sir. He had ahol' o' me right good that time."_

_Darcy was amazed at how calm the boy seemed. "Are not you afraid that he will come after you again? Will he not want revenge for what just happened?"_

_The boy shrugged. "Smith be new. These others will soon tell 'im he ought not bother me."_

_Darcy looked up. Indeed the rest of the prisoners seemed to be giving them a wide berth._

_Darcy put out his hand. "Fitzwilliam Darcy."_

_The boy had surprise in his eyes. He smiled and shook the proffered hand. "Michael Newbold, sir."_

A good name for you. You are bold and brave. _Darcy could not imagine that young boys like this were thrown in with criminal men. He took another a look around them. There was even a woman here and there. _

"_You are to hang?"_

"_Aye, Monday morn sir. Thievin' and I got caught."_

"_What did you take?"_

"_A chicken, sir."_

This boy's life for a chicken._ "You were hungry."_

"_No, sir. I mean yes, sir. But that I always is." The boy shrugged again and continued to speak in a matter of fact tone. "It were me mum that needed the chicken. Lost the new babe she did. Old lady Cooper said mum had to have somethin' to eat, a good soup to make her strong."_

_Darcy frowned and could not avoid pity in his look. It was the same in the country. Stealing could not be allowed. Most of Darcy's neighbors would not hesitate to hang a boy caught thieving. He understood why the penalties were so harsh, but he did not have to like it. Darcy, nor as he could remember his father, had ever had to confront this problem. At Pemberley, people did not go hungry. Still, if something like this had occurred, Darcy was sure he would have found a solution that did not include the hanging of a boy. _

"_Now don't ya be feelin' for me, sir. I be guilty."_

_At that moment Darcy heard his name called out. He struggled to his feet and called out "Here."_

_He nearly sighed in relief as he saw a guard approaching followed by three men in Leed's livery._

"_It looks like I may be about to get new accommodations. Will you be alright Mr. Newbold?"_

_The boy smiled and winked. "Like I said, don't be worrin' for me sir. I'll be alright."_

_The good colonel thanked the Heavens that money had changed hands and Darcy was safely locked in a private cell with a physician having already seen to his injuries. Darcy's condition was appalling._

_Richard had filled his flask with good brandy, intending to share it with his cousin. However, the sliced jaw and the other cuts and scrapes made Richard use the alcohol on Darcy's wounds. One of the army surgeons swore by it and that man lost fewer limbs than any surgeon that Richard had ever seen. So be it. The good French brandy would go on Darcy instead of in him. Well, not all of it. Darcy did get one good swig first._

**/  
/**

_Even though he was bone tired as he finally swung into his saddle, Richard Fitzwilliam had one more stop to make before he could return to Darcy House. _

_As soon as he and his men were clear of the worst parts of town, Richard dismissed the men to go home and get a good night's rest. Sighing, he then turned his own horse toward the home of a judge that was a longtime friend of the Darcys. _The man may be a friend but I hope he is not yet asleep. _Richard could not imagine that any judge would like to be awakened with a request to save a guilty thief from hanging. Still, with the story that Darcy had told, they probably all owed Darcy's continued existence to that boy. Getting the urchin's sentence changed from hanging to transportation seemed the least they could do. With the boy due to swing in little more than a day and with Richard having to travel to Rosings tomorrow, there was nothing for it but to disturb the judge tonight._

**/  
/**

**Matlock House, London**

**April 12, 1812**

Very few servants were present at Matlock House. It was Sunday. Excepting those who had to make the journey to Rosings today, most had the day off or were still at services. A sharp rap on the front door was heard only by the housekeeper.

Mrs. Wright gave a coin to the lad at the door and took a missive from him. Then, she proceeded to the master's study. After knocking twice and receiving no answer, she opened the door. Thank Heavens she avoided crying out. It was clear that the master was dead. After closing the door softly, she crept closer to the body. He was such an odd color. Immediately she lay the death at the feet of her guest in the attics.

There was nothing for it now. Too many servants knew that Mrs. Wright was helping someone to hide in Matlock House. Even if the thefts were not uncovered now, she could easily be hung due to this murder.

Almost without thinking, she took the Earl's gold watch. Then she looked around for other small things of value. A silver letter opener joined the watch in her pocket. Her eyes looked in the direction of the safe. A soft sigh escaped her. She did not know the combination and it did no good to regret that fact.

She quietly made her way back to the door. Silently opening it, she looked around. No one was in sight. Slipping out and closing the door, she made her way back to her rooms. Whatever she had now would just have to be enough.

Having planned ahead for this moment, Mrs. Wright was able to exit Matlock House before ten minutes had passed. Just before she went out the door, she laid the missive that had been delivered earlier on the hall table.

**/  
/**

**Darcy House, London**

**April 12, 1812**

Richard bid farewell to Mrs. Darcy and made for the door. He wished that he could stay until Leeds arrived, but it was not to be. Although Richard had hidden the reason from his father, Darcy's situation had delayed the departure to Rosings by a full day already. Today he had meant to be on the road hours ago. However, Richard had been unable to deny Mrs. Darcy.

She had been up before the dawn and was standing in the main hall, waiting for Richard as he came down. Elizabeth wanted to be taken to see Darcy and nothing that Richard had said would sway her. Silently laughing at himself for being controlled by such a small female, Richard had sent a missive to his father, further delaying their departure.

Now that Mrs. Darcy was safely back home, it was time to turn to another duty – burying Lady Catherine. Truly Richard did not want to leave London at all, but he consoled himself with the fact that he would return as soon as the old witch was in the ground. He would be gone little over twenty-four hours. He was leaving Welcher and Barnes to watch over Elizabeth. Darcy was as safe as he could be at the moment. Leeds was the only one who could make any headway with Prinny. No. There was nothing more that Richard could do here for now. He needed to take care of his duty to his aunt. So he had sent another missive to his father, stating that he would arrive within the half-hour and that they could leave immediately for Rosings.

**/  
/**

**Matlock House, London**

**April 12, 1812**

It had been a surprise not to see the travelling coach standing at the ready as Richard approached his home_. I hope Father is not in his cups again. This may be a long trip._

He had to tie his own horse at the door as no one was there to take it. He let himself in and was prepared to bark orders at the butler. Richard's horse needed refreshing for the journey and the coach needed to be brought round for an immediate departure. However, there was no butler to be seen. There were not even any footmen around. The whole house was eerily quiet.

Calling out for servants as he went, Richard made for his father's study.

**/  
/**

**Darcy House, London**

**April 12, 1812**

Three hours later, Richard was sitting in Darcy's study. Mrs. Darcy sat nearby, going over instructions with Mrs. Grimes before she was sent off to help at Matlock House.

The soldier in Richard had taken over as soon as he had seen his father's body. He called in the magistrate and the Bow Street Runners. The investigation into the Earl's untimely death was well underway. There had been murder. There had been theft. There had been someone hiding in the attics. Suspicion fell heavily on the missing housekeeper and the apparent accomplice that she had been keeping in the house.

But then the well-trained Colonel in His Majesty's service had suddenly felt inept. Murder investigation aside, dealing with death was women's work. The Lady Matlock was at Rosings. The missing housekeeper certainly would be of no help. So, Richard had turned to the only female he could think of at such a moment, Mrs. Darcy.

And so it was that the woman, so recently called a country nothing by the Earl of Matlock, was now giving the necessary orders to deal with his body and his homes.

First, Elizabeth had the colonel write and send an express to Rosings. Then she called in her housekeeper. Leeds had yet to return and there was no way that Elizabeth was leaving Darcy House again until he did. She would send Grimes over to Matlock House.

The first order of business was to make sure that Mrs. Grimes would only do the minimum necessary for the moment. Surely Lady Matlock would be returned to her townhouse by tomorrow evening and would then take care of things as she saw fit.

In truth, there was little that Mrs. Grimes needed by way of instruction. She was a very competent housekeeper and, even without a mistress to guide her, had dealt with the London house when old Mr. Darcy died. What took up most of discussion between housekeeper and mistress was Elizabeth's order that Mrs. Grimes would be staying with Lady Matlock until a proper housekeeper could be hired. Mrs. Grimes was not in favor or that. Oh, no. Her own mistress was in sore need at the moment and duty lay at home.

She might as well have saved her breath. Mrs. Darcy saw the severe need of Lady Matlock and she would not be moved. Still grumbling, Mrs. Grimes made her way out the door with Colonel Fitzwilliam.

**/  
/**

Elizabeth had to wait only a short time before Uncle George was finally announced. The news was both bad and good. The Prince Regent was extremely angry that Darcy had allowed the elopement. He firmly believed in Fitzroy's account. He did not see how Bingley could have made off with Jane without Darcy's help. Prinny took the whole thing as a slap in the face. No matter what Leeds had said, His Majesty considered Darcy guilty of willfully disobeying a Royal order. The good part was that Prinny had not yet decided with what to charge Darcy. For now he was simply pleased to think of the man rotting in jail.

Their meeting had ended with a not so subtle threat. If Leeds did not leave Carlton House immediately, Darcy was apt to either go missing or meet with an accident.

"I am sorry, Elizabeth. Knowing the Prince Regent as I do, it is best to let him cool down for a day or two. I am off to see Holderness again. Perhaps he will approach Prinny next. In the meantime, we will keep a close eye on everyone. We will keep Darcy safe."

Elizabeth saw her husband's face in her mind; the black and swollen eye, the raw and stitched place across his jaw, and the large lump on his forehead. She could take no comfort in Uncle George's declaration that he would keep her husband safe.

**/  
/**

**Rosings Park, Kent**

**April 12, 1812**

Sunset had still not brought the Earl, the Colonel and Darcy to Rosings Park. Two people were pacing, each wondering what the late arrival could mean.

Lady Matlock was worried about her son and her nephew. It was unlike them to be late and not to send word. She was worried yesterday when she had learned that Darcy's trip was taking a day longer than she had thought. There was no explanation as to why. Now they still were not here. Something had to be terribly wrong.

The Countess had accompanied Lady Catherine's body to Rosings. She had known that her niece would be lost and useless at such a time. It was too bad that so many days had gone by. It did not seem right to keep her dead sister, no matter what she had been in life, so long out of her tomb. Lady Matlock shivered a little as she thought of the body that now lay in the ice house.

However, they had to give Darcy time to arrive from Pemberley. Tomorrow, after the burial, the breakfast, and the reading of the will, it would be over. Lady Matlock could return to London. No matter what the will said, Darcy would take care of it. She would take Anne back to Matlock House at least until her niece was stronger. Darcy would do what needed to be done at Rosings.

Her mind drifted to her eldest son. He had been a surprise in all this. Not only had Milton insisted on accompanying her to Rosings, he had actually been of use since their arrival. She felt a small stirring of hope. Perhaps he would end up being something more than his father was.

**/  
/**

The object of Lady Matlock's thoughts was pacing in Lady Catherine's study. Milton could not but wonder if Wickham had anything to do with the fact that the earl had not yet arrived. The Viscount was certainly hoping that this was the case. After all, he had accompanied his mother to Rosings in order to be far removed from Matlock House should something ill befall the earl.

Had something happened? Milton was wild to know. But he could do nothing, ask nothing and suggest nothing. He could not afford to give any hint that he knew something might have happened to the earl. No. There was naught to be done for now. Milton would not let all his careful plans go astray.

So, he paced.

**/  
/**

Neither worried party had to wait much longer. An express from Richard arrived. The Earl of Matlock was dead.

**/  
/**

**The Road to London**

**April 13, 1812**

Lady Catherine de Bourgh was now at rest. The family had left for London as soon as possible after the entombment. Under the circumstances, all had understood that the breakfast needed to be cancelled. Lady Catherine's servants and tenants would benefit from all the food that had been prepared.

Due to Darcy's absence, the reading of the will had been delayed. Lady Catherine's solicitor would journey to London in a day or two and the will would be read there. Milton had been surprised that Darcy had not come to Rosings anyway. Surely Richard was investigating Father's death. Darcy would have felt a stronger need to see to Anne than to help Richard at this moment. Darcy knew as well as Milton did that, marriage or not, Darcy would be the executor of Lady Catherine's will. She would not have trusted any of the rest of them.

Richard's express had not explained the reason for Darcy's absence. Well, Milton would find out once they were in London.

He looked across the carriage at his sleeping cousin. She was a tiny and sickly thing. It was amazing that she continued to live. It was also too bad that she no longer had any dowry. Milton could have married her, acquired Rosings and, judging by his cousin's appearance, been left a widower in short order. If he wasn't in need of ready cash, he would marry her anyway. Rosings, like Matlock, could be rebuilt to once again generate great income.

All these days at Rosings had not been idle for the viscount. Milton had been busy nosing into Lady Catherine's books. As far as he could tell, Rosings was stripped of all its cash, but it did not have the debt that plagued Matlock. Perhaps he should marry Anne and just sell Rosings for the coin he needed. No. First, it would not bring much of a price in its rundown state. Second, Darcy would protect Anne from any fortune hunters now, even from the new Earl of Matlock.

Milton sighed as he sank back into the carriage cushions. _Well, we shall see how it all unfolds. For now I shall think on status hunters within the Ton. I need a good dowry and soon._

**/  
/**

**The Old Red Cow, London**

**April 13, 1812**

A hat and scarf covering his face, Wickham sat in a darkened corner of the busy pub. The place was alive with rumors about Darcy. He was in Newgate. He was in the Tower. He had killed the Earl of Matlock. He had crossed the Prince Regent. He had killed Lady Catherine de Bourgh. He had killed everyone in his house. He was to hang. He was to hang. He was to hang.

Wickham could no longer hear the gossip around him. He could only hear that phrase being repeated, over and over.

What had happened? _Is Darcy being blamed for what I did?_ George felt a great wave of nausea. No. Surely it could not be. Still, it seemed certain that Darcy was in the gaol. What had happened?

His dreams last night and his memories today were full of Darcy. Wickham recalled time after time when his childhood friend took care of him, helped him, treated him as a brother. The faces of Georgiana and old Mr. Darcy floated through Wickham's mind. He owed so much to these three people and he had done them such harm. _Georgie, poor Georgie_. What was she to do without her brother? Who would take care of her if Darcy were to hang? _Maybe I can turn myself in, confess to killing Lady Catherine and the Earl. But what if Darcy is being held for some other reason? Then turning myself in will not help him. What to do? What to do?_

Wickham looked up for a moment. At the bar he saw a tall, broad-shouldered man with a head of dark curls_. Darcy!_ The man turned around. Of course it was not Darcy.

Wickham was bitterly disappointed at the trick his mind had played on him. He stared down into his beer. Suddenly he was hit with the answer to it all. Yes. It would work. Why not? And perhaps it would provide just a little bit of redemption for all the sins he had committed.

He rose and made his way out of the bar. He needed to find a way into Darcy House. The new Mrs. Darcy was there. Wickham had seen her. She would understand Wickham's plan. Now all he had to do was to get inside the house and find a way to speak to her alone.

**/  
/**

**Darcy House, London**

**April 13, 1812**

Akers had finally talked Mrs. Darcy into changing into her nightgown and robe. At least that way the mistress would be comfortable should she finally fall asleep.

With a sigh, Akers left Mrs. Darcy sitting by the fire, looking vacantly into the flames. Both Welcher and Barnes were on duty in the hallway. One of them would come for her if the mistress needed anything at all.

**/  
/**

Elizabeth had fallen asleep in her chair. She was startled awake by a hand held over her mouth.

"Please Mrs. Darcy, do not be afraid. I am here to help. I have thought of a way to save your husband. I am going to let go of your mouth in just a moment. Please do not cry out. Please give me a minute to explain to you how we can save him. I am going to let you go now. Please listen to me before you call for help."

He did let her go. He was moving around to take a seat across from her. Elizabeth's hand went to the pistol that was beside her in the chair. She did not know why exactly, but she had kept it with her since Darcy was taken away. As soon as the man sat, Elizabeth lifted and cocked the gun. Then she took a good look at the intruder. She had to withhold a gasp. Never had she seen such a misshapen face.

"Stay in the chair or I shall shoot you. Believe me, I can." Elizabeth was pleased that her voice did not break. "I will not cry out for the moment. Say what you have to say."

She listened as he told her who he was and what he had in mind. At first Elizabeth was torn between being incredulous and simply just shooting the man. This was George Wickham. This was the man who had destroyed Georgiana, who had so wounded Lydia. This was a man who certainly deserved to die.

But as he continued talking, Elizabeth began to see how his idea might work out. If Uncle George was unable to get Fitzwilliam released, this would at least save his life.

She eyed the man more carefully. He was big and tall, just as Fitzwilliam was, although Wickham was thinner, perhaps due to his illness. He had almost the same hair as Fitzwilliam, too.

"What shall we do about your face?" As she asked the question, Elizabeth realized the answer. Stage tricks. That man that she had met all those months ago at Carlton House, the one who turned beauties into witches for the stage; he would know how to turn each man into the other. If they had enough time, they could start adding some lumps to Fitzwilliam's face as they planned the switch. Then, by the time Wickham took Fitzwilliam's place, the disfigurement would not be a problem. More than that, it would be a great help. Once Fitzwilliam started to develop lumps, the guards at the prison would be afraid to come near him. By the time that the switch was made, no one would question anything. If Fitzwilliam was sent to the gallows, this man would hang in his place.

Elizabeth mused out loud. "We would have to leave England."

"I am afraid you would, at least for many years. Eventually, Darcy could come back as someone else."

_Still, Fitzwilliam would be alive. We have enough money. We can take the girls with us and live well in some new place. _She placed her hand on her stomach. _My husband will see his child._

**/  
/**

**Matlock House, London**

**April 13, 1812**

The Bow Street runner led Richard up into the attics. A new hiding place of the missing accomplice had been found.

Richard shifted through the items that had been left behind. He turned over a handkerchief in his hand. The initials GW stared back at him. _GW. George Wickham! Good Lord! Darcy House! Mrs. Darcy! If he has been here, he could be there!_

In a moment, Richard was flying down the stairs and heading for the stables. He was calling out for his horse.

**/  
/**

**Darcy House, London**

**April 13, 1812**

Richard pounded on the front door. As soon as it was opened, he demanded to know Mrs. Darcy's location. He raced up the stairs to her rooms.

Welcher and Barnes were both dozing against the wall. Not pausing to wake them, he opened Elizabeth's door and unsheathed his sword as he burst into the room.

He saw Elizabeth holding a gun on a strange, misshapen man.

"Wickham?"

"Richard, it has been a long time."

Elizabeth saw the sword rise and felt Richard move toward Wickham. "Richard! No! Wait!"

It was too late. Richard had speared Wickham through the heart.

**/  
/**

Now, you can all run me through on the comments thread.


	17. Chapter 17

**Thank you everyone for all your comments. I cherish each and every one. They keep me going. They really do. Once again, RL has forced me to choose between answering them and posting on time. I hope you guys agree with my choice to post.**

**History Notes:**

**Newgate's Keeper:** Please do not raise your eyebrows when today's post gives you Darcy comfortably ensconced in a guest room of the Keeper of Newgate's house. (Darcy was still technically in prison there as the house was within Newgate's walls.)

This is not imagination on my part. As long as the Darcy clan parted with enough money, it was to be expected.

Outsourcing is not a new concept. It has been used throughout time and it was used by the British government to run most of their prisons. Prior to reform, the position of the Keeper of Newgate was a very lucrative one. As a matter of fact, people used to pay just to get the job. I read in one place that someone paid 5,000 pounds for it in the late 1700s. (If I have my conversions right, that loosely translates into half a million dollars in today's money.)

Once you understand how the place was run, it will be easy to see why the position commanded such a price.

The Keeper had a free hand to charge inmates whatever he wanted. They had to pay for everything; including food, bedding and drink. As a matter of fact, they had to pay just for being there. Not only that, they had to pay to get out, even when the courts freed them. If you happened to die while imprisoned, your family had to pay to retrieve your body. If they did not, they would just let you rot until someone gave in and forked over the money.

It was amazing what you could buy. If you had the funds, you could not only get a private cell, you could also get a cleaning lady. Even a prostitute was available for the right price.

Yes, there was lots of money to be made.

. /lectures-and-events/newgate-londons-prototype-of-hell

**Straw Men**: There was also money to be made at the Old Bailey next door to the prison. Justice was swift in those days. Not only were people brought to trial quickly, but the trial itself was most often very short. I don't know how long trials lasted in 1812, but my source tells me that eighteenth century trials lasted, on the average, for eleven minutes.*

Under such circumstances, witnesses were not likely to be examined too closely. A little side industry grew out of that. If one looked around outside the court rooms, there were always men with straw protruding from their pockets or their shoes. The straw was a signal that these men were available as witnesses. They would testify as instructed by whoever paid them.

*also from: . /lectures-and-events/newgate-londons-prototype-of-hell

**/  
/**

**Redemption**

**Chapter 17**

**Darcy House, London**

**April 14, 1812**

It was not yet dawn as Richard left his rooms. He took the servants stairs. He smiled as wonderful smells assaulted his nose. He was hungry. The Darcy House kitchen staff was always at work before the sun rose. Maybe some things had already come out from the ovens. It would be perfect if he could have a little something good to eat before he had to face Matlock House today.

He was shocked when he entered the kitchens. The whole place was filled with servants and bursting with activity. The long oak table was surrounded by busy workers. _What are they doing?_ He stepped closer and saw that they were slicing fresh bread and filling it with bacon, ham and sausages. The finished rolls were being piled into large baskets that sat in the center of the table. His hand automatically reached for one of the savory treats when a sharp rap on his knuckles stopped it.

"Ouch!" Richard looked up. His eyes met those of Cook. He could not but smile. Cook had been chasing Richard out of her kitchens since he was a small boy.

"None of that Master Richard. These here are for Mrs. Darcy to take with her this morn. There is already food for you in the breakfast room."

Richard's smile grew larger. "Then I shall make my way there, madam."

As he left the kitchens, Richard was again surprised. The whole house was lit up. Servants were scurrying everywhere. Curiosity filled him. Surely the events of last night could not be cause of this morning's activity. The magistrate and the Bow Street Runners had been here until late into the night. Richard had expected this to be a very quiet morning, with the servants moving around gently so as not to disturb the sedated mistress upstairs.

He was impressed that Mrs. Darcy had functioned so well through everything that happened. Well, she functioned well once she had stopped berating him for killing Wickham.

Surely today she would suffer from the shock of it all. First that deformed beast had confronted her in her rooms. Then she had been witness to… Well, Richard had seen grown men faint the first time they saw something like that. A lady would certainly be prostrate for days.

However, he was in for another surprise upon entering the breakfast room. Mrs. Darcy was not sedated and in bed, she was right here and she looked perfectly calm.

"Good morning Richard. I ordered a very early breakfast. I know that you need to return to Matlock House."

"Thank you, Mrs. Darcy. You are very kind to think of me under the circumstances."

Elizabeth waived her hand in dismissal of his thanks. "I am pleased that it looks like you will not face any charges."

"It did help that he seems clearly guilty of my father's murder." It had been a shock last night when an empty poison vial was found in one of Wickham's inner pockets. The smell of bitter almonds had been clear.

Elizabeth nodded and then cleared her throat. "Richard, I understand that there will be many duties for you at home. Still, I would ask a favor."

It was Richard's turn to nod.

"I ask that you make a list, as quickly as you can, of friends to the Darcys. I am especially interested in powerful people, be they lord or judge or just wealthy. Anyone you can think of should be written down. I shall ask Fitzwilliam to make the same kind of list when I see him this morning. I should very much wish for you to send your list here sometime today."

"You do not think that your uncle will be successful?"

"I wish to be prepared."

Richard set down his coffee cup and stared at Elizabeth. He was amazed that he had not thought of this. If there was ever a situation that called out for the exercise of power, this was certainly it. Somehow Richard had unconsciously consigned the responsibility for getting Darcy released over to Leeds and Holderness. What a mistake that was. Of course all the power that they had should be brought to bear. Darcy's life was at stake. His mind immediately went to what would be involved in carrying out Mrs. Darcy's plan. The season was well under way. Almost all of the men they sought would surely be in town. Many of them would follow the Earl of Matlock's coffin to the estate for the funeral.

"These men will need to be personally approached. You have me. Those that come to Matlock for my father's entombment will be easily at hand. You also have Leeds. If he is well enough, I am sure that you also have Holderness. Is there anyone else?"

Elizabeth looked at Colonel Fitzwilliam with a new measure of respect. He had not only quickly seen what Elizabeth had in mind, but he was actively planning its execution.

"Perhaps the Earl of Arlington, although in truth I do not know him well at all. I was hoping that you could also steer me toward others, perhaps a godfather or beloved friends from university."

Richard absently nodded. His mind was once again racing through the details of bringing Darcy power to bear on the Prince Regent. A movement by Mrs. Darcy recalled Richard to the room. He watched as she calmly poured herself a cup of tea. Her arm did not even shake. In that moment, he knew that he had both misunderstood and underestimated her. Elizabeth Darcy loved her husband and she would let nothing stand in the way of helping him. And she clearly had a spine of iron. She had willfully set aside the horrors of yesterday and would proceed with whatever needed to be done to help Darcy. _And she is increasing! Amazing. _

The butler appeared at the door. "Excuse Mrs. Darcy, Cook wishes you to know that all the baskets are at the ready. Also, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner are here."

A look of relief flowed across Elizabeth's face. "Thank you, Bryant. Please see them in."

Richard looked in question at Elizabeth. Her voice had shown no surprise when her aunt and uncle were announced to the house at such an early hour. But Mrs. Darcy was not looking back at him. She was already rising and she made it almost to the door by the time the Gardiners were announced. Richard saw a momentary crack in Elizabeth's controlled countenance as she was engulfed in her relatives' arms. Then, she again surprised the colonel. As she drew back from their embrace, Richard could see that her features were once more under regulation and she got straight down to business.

"Thank you both so much for coming. Uncle, did you manage to bring something special for the keeper at Newgate?"

"Yes my love. We met a Mr. Welcher in the hall. He is seeing to it being loaded with your other baskets. He says he will personally follow behind you with it so that it makes its way into the keeper's hands. It is a box loaded with rare fruits and in center there is a very fine port."

Elizabeth beamed at her uncle.

"I will return this evening with more. I am sure that cigars, French brandy, chocolate and silks will be welcomed. I will see what else I can find today. Hopefully we will not have need of such gifts for too many days, but I shall make sure you have them at the ready."

Elizabeth squeezed her uncle's hands in gratitude. She would be eternally grateful for having an uncle in trade. Then she turned to her aunt. For a moment, it looked like Elizabeth choked back a sob, but nothing was evident in her voice when she spoke.

"Thank you for coming Aunt. I cannot do this myself and Mrs. Grimes may be gone for many days. I have sent a note to Mr. Woolridge. He will hopefully send the name of a place where the items may be safely stored. Thank you, Aunt. Thank you."

Mr. Gardiner stepped back over to his niece and handed her a small folded paper. "There is a fifty pound note in here, Elizabeth. Even by itself, it should more than buy some comforts for your husband. If you can, you should put it directly into the keeper's hands."

Elizabeth nodded solemnly. I shall see the money is returned to you." She gave a kiss on the cheek to both her aunt and uncle, and then turned to Richard. "Forgive me. I wish I could be of more help at Matlock House, but I must do what I can for my husband first. Please deliver my condolences again." Elizabeth drew in a deep breath, seemed to be once again controlling her emotions, and then abruptly left the room.

Curiosity raged in the Colonel and he turned to the Gardiners. "Forgive me for being blunt, but with my cousin in the gaol, I wish to understand everything. Mr. Gardiner, I clearly see that you are providing Mrs. Darcy with special gifts for the powers that be at Newgate. I much appreciate your help in seeing to it that my cousin is well treated. I thank you, sir."

Gardiner nodded in acceptance of Colonel Fitzwilliam's thanks.

Richard turned his attention to Mrs. Gardiner. "If I may be so bold, what will you do here today Mrs. Gardiner and how does Woolridge fit into it?"

A lesser woman might have taken offense at such questioning, but Mrs. Gardiner was not only made of stern stuff, she also possessed a kind heart. She took great pity on the man before her. Hardened soldier though he may be, he had not only been forced to take a life last night but he also had just lost his father.

Mrs. Gardiner walked over to the colonel and laid a gentle hand on his arm. "Sir, I am here to help Elizabeth keep her sanity through all this. She begged that I strip the place where… After what happened last night, she cannot bear to be in her own rooms. She asked me to come and see that all is packed away and sent somewhere for storage. Her first notion was to have everything within those rooms burned. However, her more rational mind prevailed. She does not want to inadvertently throw out any heirlooms, but she wants every piece of furniture, every painting, every candlestick in there gone from this house. Mr. Woolridge will hopefully advise me on where to store it all. Elizabeth does not even want any of it even in the attics of this house. When all is gone, she wishes me to have the rooms painted and refurnished."

**/  
/**

It took Richard most of his trip to Matlock House to fully come to terms with everything that Mrs. Darcy had set in motion since last night. Richard had thought himself to be busy. He had made sure that Welcher would serve as personal guard to Mrs. Darcy, that she would have enough of the Duke of Leeds' men and of her own to insure her safety, that the men had bags of coin to serve as bribes, and that notes were dispatched to both Holderness and Leeds informing them of recent events and of Richard's necessary trip to Matlock to lay his father to rest.

But, Mrs. Darcy had done so much more. She had neatly arranged a hearty welcome for herself from all those that worked at Newgate. She was travelling there this morning not only with coin, but with warm treats from the kitchens for all the guards. Why Mrs. Darcy must have awakened the kitchen staff in the wee hours of this morning to set all the food preparation in motion. It suddenly occurred to him that Mrs. Darcy had given Darcy's staff wonderful relief by involving them in helping their master_. I wonder if she thought of that, too._ The special gifts for Newgate's Keeper were inspired touches. Richard had great relief in all this. Darcy would be well treated and Mrs. Darcy would be given every courtesy and protection. _Amazing._ Not only that, her thoughts had gone to new ways to regain Darcy's freedom. Richard had no doubt that Prinny would soon have enough visitors to make his head spin. _Amazing._ And through it all, Mrs. Darcy saw her own need to be rid of the horrors of last night. Richard's mother, Darcy and all the servants at Pemberley had been so right. The new Mrs. Darcy was a formidable woman indeed_. Amazing._

**/  
/**

**Newgate Prison, London**

**April 14, 1812**

It did not take long for news of the bounty that was laid out in the Turnkey's Lodge to reach all the prison workers. Soon the place was crowded with grateful men enjoying the fruit of

Darcy House's kitchens.

The Keeper soon appeared before Elizabeth. He begged leave to introduce himself and then proceeded to speak quietly with the wife of his obviously wealthy inmate.

"Mrs. Darcy, thank you for thinking of my men this morning."

"It is I who must thank you sir for seeing to my husband's needs. He is guilty of no crime and I am sure he will soon be released."

The same thing had occurred to the Keeper. At first it seemed that his new guest was soon to be dead. The fact that he had been paid to throw the man in with the general population did not bode well for Darcy's future. But, the man seemed to have powerful allies. Well however it went, Ackerman knew that he did not have much time to earn money from all this. Whether Darcy ended up dead or released, the window for making a profit would be small.

"It has occurred to me that your husband could be very much more comfortably situated. Indeed, I have been thinking that he should perhaps reside in one of the guest rooms in my own home. However, I am just not sure that I could adequately see to his comforts there."

Elizabeth understood perfectly and her heart soared. "It must be so difficult to see to that sort of thing, busy as you are with all your responsibilities. If you allow me sir, I shall be happy to send along some items to help with your domestic comforts." She turned so that her actions would be hidden from most of the room. Slowly she withdrew the envelope from her pelisse pocket. "I shall send some things to you later today. For now, this might be of some help."

**/  
/**

When Elizabeth finally made it to where Darcy was being kept, she was allowed to see him alone. Welcher and her men stood guard outside.

In moments, she was wrapped in her husband's arms. The relief that she suddenly felt caused her to finally lose control. She began to sob.

Darcy held her, spoke softly to her and repeatedly kissed her hair. Finally, he swept his still weeping wife into his arms and carried her over to a corner that could not be seen from the doors. Sliding down onto the stone floor, he situated her on his lap and rocked her gently. Finally, all her tears were spent.

After she had been quiet for a while, Darcy began to kiss the remnants of the tears from her eyes and cheeks. It was as natural as the sun rising for his kisses to continue to her ears, her neck and finally her lips. They were both lost to their deep need for each other. Soon, Elizabeth was straddling his lap and, hidden under her skirts, he was buried inside her.

More quickly than either wished, it was over. They remained a long time silent and still joined together. Finally, their clothing was righted and Elizabeth was once again being held on his lap. Darcy was gently speaking to his child.

Elizabeth did not wish to bring reality in, but she had no choice. "I have so much to tell you. I should start. I do not know how much time we have."

Darcy placed his finger gently on her lips. "In a moment, first there is something I need to give you." He placed her carefully on the stone floor and then rose. He went to a desk that held ink, quill and paper. Elizabeth did not remember it being here yesterday. Money did do wonders.

When Darcy returned, he resettled his wife on his lap before handing her a folded sheet. "It occurred to me that we may need more help than your uncle or your grandfather can give. This is a list of people. They are all either friends or they owe a great debt to our family."

Suddenly Elizabeth began to laugh. She laughed so hard that she was once again weeping.

Darcy held her the same as he had before. He was afraid that she was finally becoming hysterical about the situation. His fears were unfounded. When she stopped laughing, her eyes were still full of mirth.

"And what is so humorous about my list?"

"Nothing, my dearest. Really nothing. It is just that it must be true that great minds think alike."

She proceeded to tell him of her ideas for the same kind of list. It was suddenly sobering. Their situation was dire.

Darcy went over his list, name by name, and told Elizabeth of each person and how to approach them. Then Elizabeth told Darcy of all the horrors of the last twenty four hours.

Soon, all too soon, it was time for Elizabeth to leave.

**/  
/**

**Matlock House, London**

**April 14, 1812**

The new Earl of Matlock was pacing in his new study. He was worried.

His concerns lay not in his past actions. Those he could not regret. His father had been driving them all to ruin. Indeed, Milton did not even regret his own previous life of idleness and dissipation. He was the heir. He had deserved some time to sow his wild oats.

No. Milton, who was now Matlock, was worried about Fitzwilliam Darcy. His cousin could not be allowed to die. Milton knew nothing of running an estate, much less what to do rebuild one. Without Darcy's advice, saving Matlock would be hard to do. It would matter little if a good dowry was acquired and Darcy was gone. Milton was sure that he could easily make a right mess of things. How was he to restore the estate without Darcy's help?

"Beg pardon, Your Lordship. Mrs. Darcy is here. I have placed her in the morning room. She has asked for the colonel."

**/  
/**

Elizabeth sat waiting for Richard to appear. She hated to disturb this house at such a moment, but there was no choice.

She had stopped at Darcy House only long enough to have some copies of the list made. She would deliver one to Richard now and then she would go on to do the same with Uncle George and Grandfather Robert. She knew that the latter two men would have powerful friends of their own to call on, too.

The door opened and Elizabeth raised her eyes fully expecting to see Richard. Instead, it was the new earl.

"Your Lordship, please accept my condolences."

"Thank you, Mrs. Darcy. And please, we are cousins. Call me William. I am distraught over the whole situation with Darcy. I have come to see if I can help in any way."

At that moment, Richard came in. He was immediately followed by the Lady Matlock.

Condolences were again given and received. Elizabeth carefully looked at all three Fitzwilliams. They all did seem to be in earnest about helping her husband. Well, she would take all the help she could get.

"Forgive me for intruding with my own concerns at such a moment. However, I cannot help myself. We must save Fitzwilliam if we can."

All three quickly agreed with her and again offered her all possible assistance. For the benefit of the new earl and his mother, Elizabeth told them of her and Fitzwilliam's idea to bring all possible pressure to bear on the Prince Regent. She then gave them a copy of the list he had made.

**/  
/**

Elizabeth left Matlock House with some real stirrings of hope in her heart. Over the course of the next several days, the Fitzwilliams would see many of the people on that list. She said a silent prayer that those approached would be willing to help.

**/  
/**

**Newgate Prison, London**

**April 14, 1812**

All through the day, one delivery after another came from the finest shops in town and from Darcy House.

By nightfall, Darcy had enjoyed a real bath and a shave. He was now comfortably dressed in clean clothing and was sitting down to share the keeper's dinner table.

Course after course of Darcy's favorite foods, which had undoubtedly been made in his own kitchens, was served. Somehow, he managed to keep a straight face as he thanked Ackerman for his generosity. Still, he was grateful to be in a house and not a cell. Tonight he would sleep in a real bed.

The two men shared a very fine port while enjoying a game of chess. Ackerman did not all mind parting with a bottle of it. After, an entire case had been delivered earlier in the day.

Darcy gave a silent toast to his wonderful wife.

**/  
/**

**Hyde Park, London**

**April 15, 1812**

The Ton was overflowing with eager and most often malicious gossip about the Darcys and the Fitzwilliams. Three deaths and the imprisonment of Fitzwilliam Darcy gave rise to every manner of wild rumor. Even the previous light whispers about Miss Darcy had been fanned into vicious tales.

Lettice Blount did not believe any of the stories about Mr. Darcy. He was a kind man, a good man. She had seen that clearly. She had no hesitation in defending him to one and all. Lettice had suffered through many displeased glares in many gossip-filled drawing rooms. No one wanted to hear about his innocence.

In an amazingly short amount of time, Lettice had become unwelcome in many places. Her mother was furious. The nonstop lectures that she delivered to her daughter made no difference. Lettice would not be moved. She had never liked the twofaced women of the Ton and the present situation only reinforced her feelings. If only she could avoid London forever!

Lettice turned her eyes to the man walking beside her. For the first time in her life, she felt that escaping into the country with a knight in shining armor might actually be possible. He was much older than she, but it did not matter. They shared many interests. They talked, actually talked. It was not at all like the superficial conversations that Lettice was used to enduring. The Earl of Arlington was an interesting man and was not afraid to speak his mind. He was also intelligent, charming, witty and very handsome. As she took in his strong profile, she had to admit to herself that she had fallen in love.

She was very happy that he had come to take her walking today. Surely helping his poor niece and her imprisoned husband must be weighing heavily on his mind. Well, Lettice would provide a willing ear for all his concerns. She was so sure that this would be the topic of his conversation that she was taken completely by surprise with the subject he brought up.

"Miss Blount, I should like very much to take you tomorrow for a tour of Kew Gardens. I thought perhaps you and your family might enjoy a picnic there."

"But, sir! Excuse me, but will you not be busy with your niece?"

"My niece?"

"Yes, Mrs. Darcy. Surely she has much need of you at such a time."

"I did receive a note from her this morning, asking that I call. But… You must realize, Miss Blount, we are not close. Surely she can expect nothing of me in such a circumstance."

Lettice stopped walking, removed her hand from his arm and stared at him. "Pardon me, Your Lordship."

Arlington smiled at her. "Have I offended you in some way?"

"My offence is on behalf of another. I was sure that you would be concerned for Mr. and Mrs. Darcy at such a time."

He shrugged.

_He is shrugging! _

"And what would have me do, Miss Blount? I understand that the truth of the matter is that Mr. Darcy has in some way offended the Prince Regent. You expect that I will become involved in such a thing? Hardly."

Lettice was astounded. Who was this man? This was not the man who had defended both her and Mrs. Darcy on the night of his ball. This was a man who showed an easy unconcern for a woman of his own blood.

Truth hit her unmercifully. She had seen this selfish streak in him, time and time again. In her happiness she had minimized it or willfully ignored it. How had she not admitted to this part of him before now? If he could treat his own flesh with such casual disregard, how would he treat a wife? Oh, it had been a mistake to let her fantasies go wild. It was a tragedy that she had given her heart over to him.

"Your Lordship, I find I am tired. Would you please return me home?"

"You are displeased."

"Sir, I find that I do not know you at all." She bravely met his eyes. "Perhaps it is best if you do not call again."

_I am being dismissed!_ Arlington's pride led to anger. "_You_ are telling _me_ not to call? _ I_ who have honored _you_, a dowerless almost spinster, with _my_ attentions? Miss Blount, have you looked around you? I do not see a steady stream of gentlemen knocking at your door. You are more foolish than I thought if you turn me away. Surely you know that you are never likely to receive another offer!"

Arlington was regretting his words as soon as they were spoken. Lettice was anything but foolish or a spinster. He should not have insulted her so. She was a wonderful woman and he thought he might actually be in love. However, her next words drove all tender thoughts and regrets from his mind. His anger once again took control.

"Thank you, Your Lordship. I am finally aware of the esteem in which you truly hold me. I am grateful that you have been so blunt. You have just insinuated that you were going to make me an offer. I will save you the mortification and trouble of doing so. I have now seen your true character. I have never met such a callously selfish man in my life. Please know sir that even if I never have another chance to marry, I will not regret what I say now. You are the last man on earth to whom I could ever entrust my happiness and wellbeing."

Turning on her heel, Lettice walked back to her footman and maid who had stopped some distance behind the quarreling couple. She kept her shoulders straight and refused to let her tears fall.

The Earl of Arlington did not hear what she said to the servants, but in a moment the three were walking quickly towards the nearest exit from the park.

Arlington stood staring after them.

**/  
/**

**Darcy House, London**

**April 16, 1812**

Thomas Bennet had a mighty frown on his face as he looked up at Elizabeth's new home. This house was a monument to that Darcy's wealth. It still galled him that the rich man had stolen away with his daughter. How dare he? _Well Mr. Arrogant Darcy, you may be rich, but where is that power you flaunted? _

London papers came to Meryton and to Mr. Bennet at Longbourn no more than a day late. When Thomas had first seen the articles about Darcy, he thought them just gossip and fancy. Then, as days went by and the accusations against Darcy grew worse and worse, Thomas had become happier and happier. His Elizabeth would come home now. She would leave the murderous, traitorous villain that she had married.

Everything would be even better than before. This time Leeds and Holderness would not come to take her away. They must be extremely upset by the scandal that now surrounded Darcy. They would not want his widow in their homes. It would be too embarrassing.

Thomas' frown turned to a smile. He did not mind the impressive house so much anymore. He had won. He would take Elizabeth home and there she would stay for all the rest of Thomas' days on the earth.

There was a spring in Mr. Bennet's step as he made for the door. He wondered if they could leave London yet today. After all, it was less than a four hour journey. If they left quickly, they would be home before dark. Now Thomas really smiled. Elizabeth would be so grateful. She would not have to deal with all the ugliness of the hanging.

A confident Mr. Bennet rapped firmly on the door.

**/  
/**

**Scarborough, North Yorkshire**

**April 16, 1812**

The sight, sounds and smell of the sea were a great comfort. Louisa Hurst sat on a lonely hillside, overlooking the water. She suddenly laughed out loud. How very like she was at this moment to Elizabeth Bennet, off by herself and in the wilds of nature. _Not Elizabeth Bennet, Mrs. Darcy! _It was past time that Louisa really took to heart the lesson she had been handed. If she had any hope for getting her life back, it lay in dropping all her past foolishness and reconciling with her husband.

She would quietly stay here a while and then try to reconcile. She knew that her best hope lay in Hurst's desire for children. It could be that she was not barren. After all, they had not tried very often. She knew that he had liked it very much coming to her in those early days. If only she had been more welcoming, things might have been very different. It was not that she minded it. In fact she had rather liked it. But then, Caroline came to live with them. That was when Hurst really began to drink. Now, Louisa could not even remember the last time she had shared a bed with her husband.

_I have not been much of a wife to him_. Well, she would try. She would do her best to make up for all her past sins. _Hurst was always a kind man. Perhaps I can redeem myself in his eyes._

Her shoulders drooped. She was avoiding the heart of the matter. She was avoiding Caroline. Nothing would be resolved without removing Caroline from their lives.

Sighing, Louisa stood. She knew how to begin. Caroline was no longer drugged. If Louisa just gave her the London gossip sheets that had arrived, Caroline would solve the problem. Louisa knew that her sister would insist on going to London, would insist that she could be of help to dear Mr. Darcy, would insist that all his ills were due to Elizabeth Bennet.

All Louisa really had to do was to let Caroline go off by herself. All Louisa had to do was to refuse Caroline's demands that Louisa come with her. The trip could only end in utter, final, irredeemable ruin for Caroline. Her behavior was sure to be such that even their aunt here in Scarborough would never let her come back again. It was sure to be enough for even Louisa to completely cast Caroline off.

Louisa needed to let it happen.

Squaring her shoulders, Louisa strode off toward town. She could do it. She would do it.

**/  
/**


	18. Chapter 18

**Fair warning all my lovely friends: we are nearing the end. After this post we have only one or perhaps two more chapters to go and then the tale will be told.**

**Notes:** I wanted to use the word surreal in today's chapter, but of course I could not. As far as I can tell, it would have been a meaningless word in 1812. Searching for a substitute, I looked up the word eerie. I used it, as the meaning that it had in 1812 is one that I wanted: causing fear because of strangeness.

The word has been with us since around 1300, but the meaning I am using only since 1792. I found the older meanings of the word very interesting and I thought that you might enjoy them, too. I especially liked how the word voluptuous was thrown in with all the other meanings.

Eerie:

c.1300, "fearful, timid," north England and Scottish variant of O.E. earg "cowardly, fearful," from . *argaz (cf. . erg "evil, bad," . arch "bad," Du. arg, O.H.G. arg "cowardly, worthless," Ger. arg "bad, wicked," O.N. argr "unmanly, voluptuous," Swed. arg "malicious"). Sense of "causing fear because of strangeness" is first attested 1792. Related: Eerily. Finnish arka "cowardly" is a Germanic loan-word.

. ?term=eerie

**Redemption**

**Chapter 18**

**Newgate Prison**

**April 15, 1812**

"Please excuse me, gentlemen. I have duties to attend."

Darcy stared at the now closed door of the drawing room. He was suddenly overwhelmed with the how eerie this situation was. Everyone's manners this morning were perfectly polite. They were all playing the parts of gentlemen while being surrounded by this unnamed circle of Hell. As he watched Leeds take another sip of tea out of a very fine porcelain cup, Darcy's mind called up all the tortured faces he had seen in this place.

He shook off the images. "Leeds, how is Elizabeth?"

"I saw her twice yesterday. The first time was when she brought me your list. Then I called on her last night. I think she had fallen asleep in the drawing room before I arrived. She is doing what she must to see you free, but I feel she is frightened and very tired."

"For Heaven's sake Leeds, she is increasing!" There was anger in Darcy's voice and he regretted it immediately. It was not the fault of Leeds that Darcy was stuck in this God forsaken place while his poor wife, in her delicate condition, battled to set him free. It was his place to be taking care of her. The guilt was tremendous.

"Forgive me, Your Grace. My anger should not be directed at you."

"Darcy." Leeds voice was gentle. "We can help her best by getting you out of here."

Looking up and meeting the duke's eyes, Darcy was struck once again with how good a friend Leeds had become. Unlike so long ago, the day that Elizabeth had found out her true heritage, this time Leeds had not taken offense at Darcy's anger.

"Forgive me, Your Grace. I… That is why I asked you here so early. I have some ideas. The Fitzwilliams will leave later this morning for Matlock. I am hoping that you will be willing to join them. With the earl having been murdered and with me being in the gaol, the Ton will attend in droves. Few will wish to miss any morsel of gossip." The disgust in Darcy's voice was clear. "I think we can use this to our advantage. Not only can we bring pressure to bear on Prinny to set me free, but perhaps we can rescue the family's reputation. Here is what I have in mind…"

/  
/

**Darcy House**

**April 15, 1812**

"The Earl of Arlington is here, mam."

"Thank you, Bryant. Please show him in here." Elizabeth felt a little twinge of uneasiness. She did not know that much of the earl. It was true that he had been welcoming. After all, he had given the ball for her and Fitzwilliam. That evening he had been warm and charming. Still, there was something in Arlington's manner that reminded her of her father. Well, she would ignore that for now. Fitzwilliam needed to be freed. The power of the Arlington Earldom could not be ignored.

"Uncle Henry."

"Elizabeth. Please accept my condolences for your Fitzwilliam aunt and uncle." By the time he had finished speaking, Arlington had made it over to Elizabeth. He kissed her hand and then Elizabeth gestured for them to sit.

"Child, how is Darcy? I am here to see if I can help in any way. Please let me see what I can do. Please, please tell me all that has happened."

There was a softness about Arlington that Elizabeth had never before seen. His voice was sincere. His face was sincere. She suddenly wanted to tell him everything. Maybe he could help.

When Elizabeth stumbled a little as she used the term 'goddaughter' to describe Jane's relationship to the Queen, Arlington stopped her.

"It is alright, Elizabeth. I know who Jane really is. I have always known. I was there the night that the current Duke's father first came to the Bennets, the night that he sought a father for the King's bastard child."

_Of course!_ "Tell me, Uncle. Please tell me about it." Elizabeth watched Arlington's face as he seemed to wage some kind of internal battle.

"I was… I have never been fond of your father. I am not sure that you should hear this from me."

"Please, Uncle. I am not blind to my father's faults. I want to know."

Arlington nodded. "Very well. It was Francis Osborne who came to us that night. He was the father of your Uncle George and your mother. He was a good man and a friend of mine for as long as I can remember. I was, in turns, shocked and angry that night. Looking back, I know now that I also felt hurt and betrayed. Francis knew me well. He knew how little I thought of your father. I could not believe that my good friend would look to Thomas as a potential husband for his daughter. Again, I am sorry to speak to you of your father in such a way. Forgive me… Francis knew that I considered Thomas a truly selfish beast with no concern for anyone except himself. I have since been told… I have come to know that he was so not different from what I am."

A wave of pain ran over Arlington's face. Then, he waved his hand as if to dismiss it. "That is neither here nor there. I tell it to you so that you know I was not a disinterested observer. In hindsight, I see that Francis considered your father as a good potential husband for Elizabeth precisely because of Thomas' selfishness. Francis felt great guilt at what had befallen his daughter. He had happily sent her off to the Queen and so doomed Elizabeth to being attacked. I believe that Francis wanted to keep Elizabeth always close so that he would never fail her again. If Elizabeth had lived after you were born, I have no doubt that you and Jane would have happily grown up at Hornby Castle, seeing little of my brother Thomas Bennet."

Again Arlington waved his hand in the air. "So Elizabeth, I was part of it all in the beginning. I know that your mother was attacked by the King. I know that the Queen was prostrate with grief and guilt. She had failed in her duty to the handmaiden in her care. Francis was the same. He had failed his firstborn child grievously. Holderness, I think, shared in their despair. All three of them were bound together in this. They needed to protect Elizabeth Osborne and her unborn child, to somehow make up for having failed so fundamentally in their duties. I listened to Francis tell us the story. I could almost feel that the three of them; Her Majesty, Francis, and Holderness; had made Holy oaths to God to always care for Elizabeth and the child. It was not only love. I saw… I think I felt a need in them to atone for their sins, perhaps even to redeem their very souls."

The room was silent for several minutes. Then Arlington spoke aloud, but he seemed to be musing to himself rather than talking to Elizabeth. "That is why I do not understand this. How could the Queen have promised Jane to Fitzroy? Did she think it assured Jane of a good and safe future? But she never asked Jane about it, did she? I cannot imagine that she would ignore Jane's feelings in this, not after all of Elizabeth's pain. What was the Queen thinking?"

/  
/

**Darcy House**

**April 16, 1812**

Not quite sure that he was doing the right thing, Bryant let Mr. Bennet into the house. "The Mistress is not available at the moment. You are welcome to wait for her sir, but it may be some time." Father or not, Bryant was not about to tell this man that Mrs. Darcy was asleep above stairs. The poor mistress was so tired and Bryant would let no one disturb her now that she was finally able to rest a little. "Would you be more comfortable in the drawing room or the library?"

/  
/

"Mr. Bennet, what can I do for you, sir?" Elizabeth's voice was devoid of emotion.

Thomas looked up sharply. He had been completely lost in the pleasures of Darcy's library. The staff had taken good care of their guest. He was well fed and now comfortably sitting in the still warm light from the great windows. There was a rare book in one hand and a glass of fine port in the other. On the table at his side lay the miniature of his dead wife. She had been keeping him company as he waited to take their daughter home again.

Now Elizabeth stood before him. He stared at his daughter. She was dressed in unrelenting black. Thomas had seen the signs of mourning outside the house. Until this moment, he thought it all due to the death of Earl of Matlock. Now he was forcibly struck with the idea that Elizabeth wore window's weeds. _So much the better._

"So, he has already been hanged. Good." Thomas paused for a moment and looked outside. The sun was too low to start their journey now. He sighed. "I had hoped we could be for home today, but it is too late. No matter. Your servants will now have time to pack for you. We can depart at first light."

Elizabeth was stunned. Until this moment, she had thought that nothing about her father could surprise her. Now she knew that she had never admitted to herself the true depth of his selfishness, of his unconcern for the feelings of anyone else, even his purported favorite. Now she truly understood. _How could I have ever thought Arlington to be like him?_ This cold Bennet before her surely deserved all the hatred that his eldest brother held. She shuddered to think she shared blood with Thomas Bennet. She sent a silent prayer to God, asking that the Bennet in her be more like her uncle than her father.

For just a moment, she felt like telling this man what she really thought of him. Then she took another hard look at him. This Bennet before her was not worth her time or her breath.

Elizabeth turned to Bryant, who was standing protectively behind her. "Mr. Bennet will be leaving now. He is never to be admitted to this house again."

She turned and headed back toward the staircase. The outraged calls of her father did not cause any discomfort. Any place that he had ever held in her heart was gone.

Thomas Bennet unceremoniously found himself out on the street, waiting for his carriage to be brought around. Anger at his mistreatment gave way to immediate disgust of the night ahead. It was too late to travel home and how he hated inns. Elizabeth must have changed. The daughter he had known would not have forced her beloved father to spend the night in a public inn.

/  
/

**Darcy House**

**April 17, 1812**

It was not until the next evening, and well after dark, that Elizabeth found her way back to the library. Almost at once she noticed the miniature that Thomas Bennet had left behind. Picking it up, she looked at her mother. The small painting was very much like the larger one she had seen at Osborne House. She was struck again with the strong resemblance that she had to Elizabeth Osborne.

Suddenly, Arlington's words were ringing in her head. _"…the Queen was prostrate with grief and guilt. She had failed in her duty to the handmaiden…" "They needed to protect Elizabeth Osborne and her unborn child, to somehow make up for having failed so fundamentally in their duties." "…made Holy oaths to God…" "…a need in them to atone for their sins, perhaps even to redeem their very souls." "Holderness, I think, shared in their despair."_

The words stayed with her as she tried to sleep that night. When she woke the next morning, the first thing she thought of was, _"…made Holy oaths to God…"_ _"What was the Queen thinking?"_

Elizabeth grabbed her robe, rang for her maid and then headed for the door. She ordered the carriage prepared as soon as possible. She needed to see her great-grandfather. She needed for him to take her to the Queen.

/  
/

**Matlock, Derbyshire**

**April 18, 1812**

The two brothers sat in the old earl's study, each nursing a brandy. Richard eyed his elder sibling carefully. Throughout everything that happened since their father died, William had behaved admirably. _Nay, it started before that. He took care of everything when Aunt Catherine died, even Rosings._

_Leeds had some faith long before I did_. Richard had been loath to give his brother the real details on why Prinny was so set against Darcy, but Leeds had been right. There was a great deal to accomplish while the old earl was being laid to rest. They needed as much help as possible. Richard's brother had proved a great ally indeed.

A little smile formed on Richard's face. It had all unfolded like a play and the main actors had performed well. The Ton had come for gossip and they were carefully fed what they craved.

Confirmation that Jane Bennet was the King's bastard daughter came first. That her features unmistakably favored the Hanovers had already fueled some tongues. The Fitzwilliams and Leeds had discussed just sticking to the goddaughter story, but the idea was rejected. Jane could not now be hurt by reality being known. Truthfully, neither could the King. The country had great sympathy for the mad, old monarch. His sin from so many years ago, being a consequence of the same madness, would not be held against him.

Little whispers of Jane's resemblance to the beloved Princess Amelia turned into roars. By the end of the first day of travel, many were swearing they had seen it themselves and had known the truth all along.

The maligning of Fitzroy was started among the servants that night. Leed's valet had made two clipped remarks. That was all it took. The old gossip of Fitzroy's affair with the Princess allowed all the servants to draw the right conclusions.

Baird, Richard's batman, stayed up late with some valets to the worst gossips among the men. Appearing to imbibe too much, Baird began to moan about disloyalty. His companions went to bed very pleased that they had pulled out of him the story of Bartlett's betrayal of the Queen and Darcy's complete innocence in whole thing.

By the time the carriages resumed their journey toward Matlock, the whole travelling caravan was wild with all the new rumors. All that Richard, William and Leeds had to do was to nod or to shake their heads where appropriate. By the time they all reached Matlock, Fitzroy was a jealous villain of the first order. Darcy was an innocent. Bartlett was a vile betrayer of trust. The love story of Jane and Bingley, of a King's daughter and a tradesman, was sighed over in the servants' quarters and abhorred by the aristocracy over their tea.

Leeds was also busy planting a different kind of seed: the great danger that faced all of them if one of their number could so easily be thrown into Newgate without even any charges being stated. _If such a thing can befall one of Darcy's impeccable character, how are any of us to be safe from Royal whims?_

By the time that the old Earl of Matlock had joined his ancestors in the family tomb, almost all the men present for the occasion were in deep sympathy with Darcy. The stealth and guile of both Bingley and the Queen's servant Bartlett were repeatedly discussed. Every peer knew he could have done no better than Darcy under the same circumstances. This was not something for which Darcy should be in Newgate, much less something for which he should be hanged. By the time that the great mass of men made their way from the tomb to Matlock, murmurs had grown to open roars. _We are free Englishmen! Such a thing shall not be allowed to stand!_

What Darcy and Leeds had worked out was worthy of the finest battle plan. Not only was Darcy's innocence firmly established, but they had managed to instill the notion that the imprisonment of Darcy was a blow against the aristocracy everywhere.

An additional twist had been all the idea of the new Earl of Matlock. He had singled out those men who were owed huge sums of money by the dead earl. _How am I ever to repay you with such a stain on the Darcy and Fitzwilliam names? How am I to rebuild Matlock to get the funds? How am I to do business? Hire servants? Marry well? It is my duty to fulfill all of my father's obligations. I am so sorry that it will take years and years to do under these circumstances. If only the real truth could be known and Darcy could be freed!_

It was a brilliant maneuver. There was nothing that inspired these men more than filling their own pockets.

William's voice brought Richard out of his reverie. "Have you decided yet? Will you accompany me back to town tomorrow or do you go to Pemberley first?"

Richard let out a heavy sigh. He really wanted to go to Pemberley, but there was no way to justify the trip. With Wickham, Lady Catherine and the Earl all dead; the threats to the women at Pemberley seemed to have also died.

_How this could look to an outsider! _ If the world at large knew that the recently slain were such enemies of Darcy and his family, all the good work of the last few days would be for naught. Richard easily counted Lady Catherine as one of the slain. Given Wickham's confessions to Mrs. Darcy about desiring to protect the family, Richard knew that George had also been responsible for Lady Catherine's death. Richard had seen his aunt as a great danger, especially to Mrs. Darcy. Wickham must have seen that, too.

But Darcy was innocent of the killings as certainly as he was innocent of crimes against the Crown. It was the slightly mad Wickham who had killed Lady Catherine and the Earl. Richard himself had done Wickham in. _I hope the gossips of London do not stir this pot very deeply._

"I shall go with you, brother. I heard from Pemberley again today. They are all well and safe. Darcy needs us in town."

/  
/

**Windsor Castle**

**April 18, 1812**

Her Majesty stared at the girl who had just risen from her low curtsey. The resemblance to her handmaiden from so many years before was unmistakable. "Come here, child. Sit next to me." The Queen motioned to a place on the floor next to her chair. Elizabeth immediately obeyed and sank down next to the Queen.

The Queen took Elizabeth's face into her hands. "You have her very eyes. You are surely Elizabeth Osborne's child."

Elizabeth looked back at Her Majesty and meant to plead for help but all she could say was, "My child. My child." Her hand went to the bump on her belly and then she broke down and wept.

Queen Charlotte found herself gently petting the mahogany curls, much as she had petted those of more than two decades before. Finally this Elizabeth quieted.

"It will be alright, child. You must tell your Queen all."

And Elizabeth did.

/  
/

**The Blue Anchor, London**

**April 19, 1812**

Welcher leaned back and took a long swig of his beer. He was more than pleased with the talk in this tavern. It was his third stop of the night and the grumblings were the same everywhere. It was amazing what a few well-placed suggestions could accomplish.

He had been skeptical when the colonel described what he want Welcher to do. So far the public had been happy to gossip at Darcy's expense. A murderous, wealthy man who also betrayed royalty was great sport. However, the colonel had been right as always. A bastard princess, an evil Fitzroy, star-crossed lovers escaping to the Americas, and a common man unjustly in Newgate had torn the old rumors asunder.

Welcher and his men had spent several days pretending to drink and telling tales. Truth was more exciting than rumor in this case and it had spread rapidly. Gratifyingly, it had been so easy to appeal to every Englishman's sense of justice.

Darcy was not a peer. He was now seen by the masses as one of them. His loss of freedom was a blow to every man in England. If one so wealthy as Darcy had no power to demand justice, what were the rest of them to do? It would not, could not be allowed to stand.

The talk took a violent turn and Welcher shivered a bit. He prayed this would not get out of hand. A march on Newgate would not be a bad thing. However, riots were very dangerous.

Hopefully the noise of a mass of Londoners would be enough for the Prince Regent to set Darcy free right away. A delay could now have unintended consequences. Welcher was suddenly very glad that the colonel would be back in London tomorrow.

/  
/

**Carlton House**

**April 20, 1812**

"Get some headache powders. Now! And we are not in for anyone else who calls! No one! Is that clear?"

As soon as the Prince Regent paused in issuing his angry instructions, a voice sounded from the door.

"Your Majesty, General Honorable Charles Fitzroy is here."

"Blast! Can you not hear? We are not giving audience! To anyone!" _And certainly not to him!_

Prinny sat back and closed his eyes against the pain. "Where are those headache powders?"

It had been a monstrous day and it was yet very early. Arlington, Leeds, Holderness, Devonshire, Byron, Richmond, Portland… The list went on and on. _Would they not stop? Who knew that throwing that Darcy in a cell would cause such trouble?_

It was not long before the butler once again returned.

"Your Majesty, Her Majesty the Queen is here to see you. She awaits you in the Corinthian Room."

/  
/

The Queen was furious. She had been led to believe that Jane consented to, nay had desired, a union with Fitzroy. She was even more angry at the treatment of poor little Elizabeth Osborne's other daughter and her husband. That man Darcy was guilty of nothing. Fitzroy was a plague on the House of Hanover. The Queen's own son, the Prince Regent, had fallen victim to it all. Well, it would be set to rights. The babe that Elizabeth Darcy carried would know its father.

"Prepare yourself to be seen by the masses. We are for Newgate Prison and we have let it be known. There is already cheering in the streets. We will set an innocent man free. We will be seen to kiss his head when he bows and you will be seen to smile."

/  
/

**Darcy House**

**April 20, 1812**

"Sir!" A shocked Bryant let his master into the house.

"Where is my wife?"

"Asleep in your childhood rooms, sir."

Darcy made for the stairs. He quietly opened the door to his old rooms and there she was. Her magnificent hair was spread out on the pillows. She looked a little pale, but still oh so beautiful in her sleep. Quietly he crept over. He stood staring at her for he knew not how long. Finally her eyes opened.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam. How I wish for you to truly come to me, not just to appear in my dreams."

"Elizabeth, you are awake my darling. I am really here."

/  
/

**Sion Hill, London**

**April 20, 1812**

Robert Darcy, the last Earl of Holderness, could not yet rest. He got out of his bed and down onto his knees. He gave thanks to God for all the events of this day. Watching the masses cheer Fitzwilliam as he was set free had brought tears to Holderness' eyes.

Now he prayed for many; for the child that Elizabeth Darcy carried, for his own departed child Amelia, for his sons who had died as infants, for his poor granddaughter Elizabeth Osborne, for his Queen, for his mad King, for the poor boy who had been his charge all those years ago and on whose shoulders the kingdom now sat, for all those souls who come to the prison this day seeking justice.

Getting up, he felt very weak. Crawling back into bed, he knew his time was nigh. He hoped his past sins were forgiven, but that was in the hands of a higher power. Drawing a final breath, he commended his soul to God.

/  
/

**The Queen's House, London**

**April 20, 1812**

Charlotte of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, Queen Consort of the United Kingdom, wife of King George the Third, and Electress Consort of Hanover in the Holy Roman Empire slept soundly that night. She had saved the father of Elizabeth Osborne's grandchild. For the baby Jane, she had done so little, no matter her noble intentions. For this new child, she had actually done some good. It now had a family and a future. She had finally honored her duty to her handmaiden. There was still more to do. She must make sure that no stain remained on Darcy's reputation. She must also try to find Jane to be assured that the girl was well and happy.

But, for now, the Queen slept the sleep of the innocent. She felt in her heart that her past sins were forgiven, her soul somehow redeemed. For the moment, she was truly at peace.

/  
/


	19. Chapter 19

**Sorry this is sooo late. I am afraid it will be Saturday reading only for those on the US west coast.**

**History Notes: **

**Monkshood: **If you peruse the Comments Thread, you may remember a spoiler of mine from some chapters back. In it, I let those of you who wanted to know that there would be two more unnatural deaths in this story. The first of those was Mr. Wickham. We get the second one today.

The poison that brings it about is Monkshood. Simply enough, it is so called because the beautiful flower of the plant reminds one of a Monk's hood. It is also known by such lovely names as wolf's bane, women's bane and Devil's helmet. The wolf's bane name is said to have come from villagers who put the poison on their arrows when they were trying to keep dreaded wolves at bay.

It shows up in our literature all through time. Ovid, who was born in 43 BC, used it as a poison in one of his stories. Brother Cadfael had it on his shelves. Shakespeare used it. Much more recently, it was seen in the Harry Potter series.

It has been used by us as both a poison and a remedy. A large enough dose will kill very quickly. However, in very small doses, it shows up in the history of both eastern and western medicine.

** blogs/2009/10/wolfsbane-monkshood-the-devil-in-monks-disguise-toxic-tuesdays-a-weekly-guide-to-poison-gardens/**

**Darcy & Osborne: **In the story today, the Duke of Leeds will say "…our surname will never be Darcy." In real history, that was not true. The next Duke of Leeds did change his surname. It became D'Arcy-Osborne.

/  
/

**Redemption**

**Chapter 19**

**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**April 22, 1812**

Mary folded the express and sighed. Her brother was now free and threats to women at Pemberley seemed removed. However, there was still no peace. Lizzy would now have to travel all the way to North Yorkshire to lay the Earl of Holderness to rest.

"Bad news Miss Mary?"

She held out the note for Barnes to read. The first time that a note had come for him, Mary had been surprised at how long it had taken Barnes to read it. He could read, at least in a slow and plodding manner. Still there had been some words that he could not make out. It was clear to Mary that he was embarrassed by it. She had been matter-of-fact about the whole thing. Not everyone had the good fortune to learn to read and she did not judge. She had, however, encouraged him to improve his skills. He had proven what she had suspected strongly from her dealings with him. He was a very clever man. With only a little help, he had already improved enormously.

When Barnes had finished the note, Mary spoke. "The Earl of Holderness was Mrs. Darcy's great-grandfather. On top of everything else, this is going to be a hard blow."

"Do you think of travelling to her?"

Mary sighed again. "Of course. But we both know we cannot. Miss Georgiana and Miss Lydia cannot be exposed to society. Mrs. Annesley is all that is good, but is not equal to the curious that might attempt entry to Pemberley. We must stay here."

Barnes felt a wave of pride at Mary's use of 'we.' A wave of pain followed immediately. He was a fool to think of them being a pair. She was too far above him.

Mary did not miss the expressions on his face. She resisted her impulse to offer him words of comfort.

/  
/

**Scarborough, North Yorkshire**

**April 23, 1812**

"Sister."

Louisa flinched.

Caroline smiled.

There was no conscious thought on her part. She simply experienced a wave of pleasure. Louisa may have steadfastly refused to travel with her, but Caroline still had the power to make her squirm.

"This is your last chance to join me. If you stay here, you will never be received in any of my homes."

Louisa was trembling. She cursed herself for it. Keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the hands that were clutched in her lap, Louisa refused to look at her sister. It was now only a matter of surviving until Caroline's carriage pulled away. Louisa could do it. She could.

There was a rustling of skirts. Soon voices were heard, but they came to Louisa as echoing and very distant. She did not try to make them out. Then, she heard the carriage pulling away. She stayed very still. Sometimes feelings of guilt came over her. After all, she was abandoning her sister. Those did not last long. There would be a noise in the house or worse, outside somewhere. A jolt of terror would shoot through her. Her back would curl and stiffen. Her arms would press tightly against her body and her eyes would scrunch more firmly closed. Her heart thrummed loudly with fear that Caroline had returned. Louisa knew that she could never be strong enough to refuse her away a second time.

/  
/

While her face was a mask, inside Miss Caroline Bingley was nearly giddy as her carriage pulled away from the despised childhood home. It had been a heady few days. When Louisa had told her that Mr. Darcy was in Newgate, nothing had made any sense. Caroline had pored over all the London papers for the rest of that day. Very quickly the truth had started to form in her mind. That Eliza Bennet was at the root of all Darcy's troubles. The truth would come out. Darcy would be freed. He would finally throw off that country chit. Maybe a divorce would not even be necessary. Maybe she would hang for her crimes. Caroline needed to be in London soon. He would need her by his side.

She had been about to order her abigail to pack when the realities of her situation hit. She had no carriage and no men servants to keep her safe. She had no place to stay in London. She had no mourning clothes. Proper respect must be shown for Darcy's uncle and aunt. As a matter of fact, her first stop would have to be at Matlock. She must offer her condolences. With any luck, someone visiting there would offer her a place to stay in London.

Well, that part would work itself out. For now, acquiring a carriage was the most pressing concern. Caroline Bingley certainly could not travel by post.

That first trip she had made out, the one to the Scarborough carriage maker, had opened her eyes. She now controlled her money. That money could buy whatever she wanted, if one knew how to use it.

It had not started out well. The stubborn tradesman had a carriage fully built and idly sitting there, but he would not sell it to her. He claimed it belonged to a client who was coming for it in a month or two. No amount of screaming had moved him. Caroline was leaving the shop, in complete frustration, when a complete stranger had the audacity to speak to her. Fate had intervened on her behalf and thrown John Blevins into her path.

Caroline raised her eyes, seeming to look through the roof of her carriage to where Blevins now sat with the driver.

/  
/

Blevins smiled to him as the horses pulled them forward and Scarborough slowly thinned. He had already made a small fortune off of the woman riding beneath them. She had no idea of how to do business or any awareness of what things should cost. But she had money. He had used it to quickly acquire everything the lady wanted. After all everyone had a price, even that stubborn carriage maker. Miss Caroline Bingley now had her carriage, her horses and her footmen.

Blevins had, of course, doubled every real purchase price and lined his own pockets. He would do the same at every step of this journey. How long he could take advantage of her funds was still a question. He momentarily frowned. Perhaps it would be best to triple the real cost of things along the journey and maybe even make a few things up. This goose and her golden egg could disappear at any time.

/  
/

**Matlock House, Derbyshire**

**April 25, 1812**

The new Earl of Matlock was buried in ledgers. Until Darcy was able to help, it was the best he could do. What a disaster his father had left him. The worst part seemed to be the outlying properties. Income from the far away estates had dwindled to nearly nothing. Most disturbing were the Irish and the West Indies holdings. Together, it looked like they had previously delivered half of Matlock's money. Now they were nothing.

He leaned back in his chair. Somehow he needed to assert control again. For the West Indies, he would have to hire someone to go there. It was not be best solution. Underlings could never be fully trusted. But, there was too much talk of war and he had come too far to die from canon fire.

Ireland was easier. That trip was not bad at all. He would do that one himself. Darcy would tell him what to look for and what to do. Someone would need to oversee the rebuilding of the English and Scottish properties while he was gone. Richard was the only logical choice. He was completely trustworthy and would turn to Darcy with any questions or concerns.

Getting Richard to leave the army would be tricky. There was war brewing not just with the colonials, but also on the continent. Richard's sense of duty to England was strong. William would have to appeal to his brother's sense of duty to family and hope that it was stronger. He would need to provide safety for Richard, too. Without the military, he would need assurance of a lifetime income. Their father had left him practically nothing.

The earl was sure that their mother would take care of Richard when she died, but that could be many years from now. William eyed the haphazard stack of ledgers on his desk. Surely there was an unentailed estate in there somewhere that he could just gift to Richard now.

Suddenly William through his pen down in frustration. None of these plans were useful with some funding. He, nor anyone else, could travel without money. Much less would he be able to rebuild anything. It would surely cost a good deal to bring both Ireland and the West Indies back into proper production, not to mention the estates closer to home. Once things were on the right path, it would all become self-sustaining. _But, I must have money to begin!_

"Your Lordship, Miss Caroline Bingley is here. She wishes to deliver her condolences in person."

_Caroline Bingley? _"Who is she travelling with?"

"Only her servants, sir."

A host of thoughts flew through the earl's head. What was this disgraced and stupid shrew doing at his door? She was the pretentious and arrogant spawn of a tradesman. What audacity she had to call on him! Then, he remembered something important. She had twenty thousand pounds. No. From what Richard had said, she now had thirty thousand pounds. _Thirty thousand unprotected pounds. Providence?_

"See that Miss Bingley is shown to a guest room. Wait. Make that the Queen Elizabeth Room." The earl saw the raised eyebrows of his servant. "Do as I say. Pass along instructions to the staff. They are to cater to her every whim. Tell her… Tell her that business of the earldom keeps me away for the rest of the day, but I shall join her for breakfast tomorrow." The servant still had not moved. "Go on. Make haste."

William was not sure he could stomach what he had in mind. He wanted the rest of the day to plan and the night to think those plans over.

/  
/

**Hornby Castle, North Yorkshire**

**April 26, 1812**

The tomb was closed and the crowd of men began the walk back to the castle. Leeds put his hand on Darcy's arm to hold him back. When the others were far enough ahead, Leeds motioned for the two of them to start walking.

"This is a strange place is it not? It brings alive our people from long ago."

Darcy nodded. "I can almost see the men in suits of armor riding into the courtyard or walking the halls. I feel that we just put the last of King William's knights to rest."

"Odd you should say that. Grandfather Robert felt it keenly, especially after Elizabeth married you. He began to see his blood still walking in this place and carrying the Darcy name."

"Well, you are his blood. It will still exist here. Do you aim to move? Make this your seat? It looks like the old place was modernized not so long ago.

Leeds looked to the mass of men that walked in front of them in the distance. There was a small cluster of men at its rear. Even from this far away, it was clear to see that they were nearly worshipping the limping man in their middle. Leeds pointed at the group with his chin. "It would not be right. You see one of the reasons there. When my mother ran off with that man's father, it damaged the Darcy and Osborne bond. In time, it will recover. However, you have seen the antagonism in our drawing rooms. It will take years, maybe generations." Leeds paused to look over Darcy. "More importantly, our surname will never be Darcy."

Darcy started to say something, but Leeds cut him off.

"Yes. Yes. I know that I just inherited any number of titles from Robert Darcy. Yes. I know I am now, among other things, Lord Darcy de Knayth. However, I am George Osborne, not Darcy." Leeds waved his arm in a wide arc. "This place is now mine. But that is not what grandfather wanted. He wanted this place to belong to a Darcy. He wanted it to go your son, the one that may even now be growing in Elizabeth's belly."

The duke was quiet for a few moments. "Holderness changed his will, you know."

Darcy raised an eyebrow.

"He changed it right after you married Elizabeth. When that will is read tomorrow, you will see that he left your son everything that did not _have_ to be left to me. We had a long talk last winter. He wanted the Holderness properties to stay with the Darcys. What he really wanted most of all was to leave Hornby to your son. It could not be done. However, now that it is mine, I can do with it as I please."

"Your family will skin you alive if you give away a castle."

Leeds chuckled. "I am not so generous as all that, even with my recent softening towards Grandfather. No, what I propose is a trade. Your son has just inherited more than sufficient property to exceed to the value of this place. I propose that we have our men sit down and work out an exchange. Enough of what Grandfather left your heir will be signed over to me. It will be an equitable trade. I will not lose money and Hornby will retained by the Darcys. If we agree on this, I am sure the attorneys will find a way to make it so."

Darcy could not really argue. He could not deny that he had been affected by the Darcy history in this place. It did belong in his family, with his name. He nodded. "So be it."

They walked on in silence for a while. Suddenly Leeds laughed out loud. "You and Elizabeth should get plenty of rest tonight. I have a feeling that many of my relatives will be very unwelcoming come tomorrow. Robert Darcy was a very wealthy man. They are all hoping for a bit of inheritance here. When they find out that your son and I are the only beneficiaries, it will not be pretty."

Darcy's chuckle was followed by a frown. "It is too bad, really. Despite the reason for them all coming together, Elizabeth has been very grateful to meet so many new aunts, uncles and cousins."

"Then you really should leave just after the will is read. That way, they won't have time to take their anger out on her. When Elizabeth eventually meets them again, their disappointments will have faded and she will again be received as family. She has had enough to be getting on with. She doesn't need a sudden wave of ill will."

/  
/

**Matlock, Derbyshire**

**May 1, 1812**

The new Countess of Matlock was alternately furious and ecstatic. She was beyond vexed that she was not now in the mistress' rooms. It did not matter to her that the old earl had only recently been laid to rest. The new earl and his countess should be immediately occupying the rooms befitting their station. Why, her present room was not even as nice as the guest room that she had been staying in. She was also upset that the servants were not properly respectful. Well, in a few days they would be or they would find themselves without positions.

However, she was still in Heaven. She was now the Countess of Matlock. Darcy would rue the day that he had let his chance to have her go by. She was now a ruler of the Ton and had every intention to use her new power. Perhaps she could even put Lady Jersey into her proper place. _No. I will just let her court my favor. I will be gracious to my equals. Those do not include Eliza Bennet. _Caroline could not help laughing.

The door that connected her room to that of the earl squeaked as it opened. All humor left Caroline. The time to consummate her marriage had arrived.

William paused with his hand still on the door. It had taken two brandies to get him this far. At first, he had decided not to deflower his new wife. He had intended to claim mourning and to delay the issue of consummation until it was moot. However, he wanted his plans to go forward with as little unpleasantness as possible. For that, he would need to seem to do as was expected of him tonight. Still, he would make sure that no child could result. The last thing he wanted was to actually breed with this creature.

He drew in a deep breath and entered her room. Walking over to the bed, he blew out the last candle. He pulled the bed clothes down and then raised her nightgown to above her breasts. When his hands felt those small lumps, his mind flew to a mistress that he used to have. She too had a very small bosom. However, she had been one of the most delightful creatures ever to grace his bed. With his mind full of her, William was able to get an erection. As soon as Caroline had some lubrication, he quickly he entered his wife. In just moments, he pulled out. With any luck, Caroline would not know the difference. Gently, he adjusted her gown back over her, covered her with the bed clothes, and kissed her forehead. "Thank you, Lady Caroline." He knew that would please her. There was no reason to be cruel. Quickly, he was safely back in his own room.

/  
/

**Brook Street, London**

**July 15, 1812**

The Earl of Arlington nervously paced the Blount's sitting room. There had been many awkward calls, dinners, and dances. Recently she had even agreed to trips to the theatre. And there had been flowers, lots of flowers. Yesterday, she had smiled. It was the first true smile he had seen in all these months.

He was almost sure that she had finally forgiven him, almost. Of course, that did not mean that she would accept him_. Stop that. You are not here to propose. You are here to see if she has truly forgiven you. _He knew she had been right. He had been more than a selfish man. He had taken delight in the reputation of the Bennets. He had allowed it to give him license to do as he pleased without regard to the wounds it gave others.

Oh, he had always done his duty to his country, his estates and his family. But he now knew that was not enough. He had always put himself first and that was not an honorable way to live. It was not how a good man would behave.

Somewhere inside him he wanted very much to be a worthy man, a man that could be admired by Lettice Blount. The good opinion of a good woman was more important than his title, his heir or his pride.

He knew his tendency towards selfishness was strong. If she would have him, she could help him learn to be better. He knew it. _Stop that!_

And then, she was before him. She was little and round and beautiful. She was everything. Before he knew what he was about, he was on his knees. What he had so carefully planned to say was forgotten. He told her all that he was thinking and feeling.

As Lettice listened, her eyes grew wider and wider. There was no arrogance, selfishness or insult coming from the man before her. There was contrition, guilt, and a very humble request for forgiveness, for a second chance. Most of all, there was clearly love.

/  
/

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**July 15, 1812**

Fanny Bennet woke up knowing what to do.

The mess they were in had left her sleepless for most of the night. She got up and put on her robe. She had to see Kitty first thing. She had to make sure that the foolish child had told no one else about her condition.

The only other tricky part would be getting Thomas to go along with the story. He had been so difficult recently. Still, she knew that he would do anything to have peace. If she could convince him that he would never have another moment alone if he did not play along, then all would be well.

As Fanny stepped into the hall, she sent up a prayer that the babe that Kitty carried was a boy.

/  
/

News that Mrs. Bennet, at her ripe old age, was again with child spread like wildfire. She made sure of it.

When she began to have nervous fits and claimed that only the seashore could calm her, no one was surprised. Fanny was a nervous woman normally. An increasing Fanny could only be worse.

When Thomas Bennet sent his wife and daughter off to Ramsgate, no one blamed him. In fact, the whole neighborhood sighed with relief.

When news arrived a few months later that Fanny did not feel well enough to travel home, no one was surprised that Thomas did not go to her. After all, he was a selfish man.

/  
/

**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**July 15, 1812**

It was a sunny day and a gentle breeze blew. Darcy sat on a blanket under the shade of an ancient tree. His wife's head was in his lap and she was sleeping. She did that a lot. His hand rested protectively over the large bump in her belly.

His mind was on his cousin. At first, he had felt a little ill when William had married Caroline Bingley. Yes, the man had a great need for money, but what a price to pay. Then, when rumors reached him that the new countess was sickly, Darcy's imagination had taken a dark turn. It seemed just too coincidental that the old earl had been poisoned and the new, rich wife was taken suddenly ill. It seemed impossible to believe that William could be such a man as to have had a hand in his own father's death. Darcy chastised himself for even thinking such a thing. Richard was sure that it lay squarely at Wickham's feet. Heavens, William had even been at Rosings at the time.

Darcy tried hard to remember if Caroline Bingley had been sickly when he had known her. He had not seen anything of it and could not remember Bingley ever bringing it up. But that meant nothing. Unless one was old and grey, the stomach of your sister was not standard conversation among gentlemen. It was impossible to know. And would William have called his own mother home to care for his wife if he was the cause of her illness? No. That was not to be believed.

Laughter brought his eyes and his mind to Georgiana and Lydia as they frolicked barefoot in the shallow stream. A small smile formed on his face. It was good to see them both relaxed and happy.

Darcy's eyes drifted over to his sister Mary. As always, she stayed very close to the girls. She had a serious look about her. He only rarely saw her let that go. However, he knew that this scene was bringing her as much joy as it was him. She truly was a good girl.

And now, if he was not mistaken, two men were interested in courting her. One was his own cousin Richard. The other was Barnes. They were both good men, although they came from drastically different classes. Still, Darcy was not of a mind to interfere. If Mary were to choose either one, he would support her. She had certainly proven that she had a good head on her shoulders. If she was not interested in either one of them, he was sure that she would let them know. He would watch out to make sure that neither man made her uncomfortable. Barring that, he would wait for Mary to come to Elizabeth or him if she needed to talk about anything.

All Darcy's musings flew away when his hand felt a very firm kick from his unborn child. Another, broader smile graced Darcy's face.

/  
/

**Matlock, Derbyshire**

**July 15, 1812**

The staff had nearly sighed with relief when the new countess proved to be a sickly creature. That is all of them did except for the poor souls whose lot it was to cleanup her chamber pots. For the rest, it was a blessing. She had quickly proven to be an ill-tempered and unkind woman. They were all very happy to have her in her bed most of the time.

Their attention had turned to the poor, new earl who was clearly distraught. Tales were told in the kitchen about how he would sit by her bedside and read to her. How on earth he had become attached to such a witch, none of the servants knew. He had turned out to be such a good master and everyone was growing quite fond of him. They did all they could to help him, even cheerfully going for the village apothecary in the middle of the night. However, nothing seemed to help the new Mistress.

When her episodes became worse, the servants and villagers alike began to fear. Maybe she had brought some plague to them. The servants in the house started avoiding the countess as much as they could. Liking the new earl was one thing. Dying for shrew he married would be something else entirely.

One of the old men in the village eased everyone's mind a bit. He remembered a man from his youth. That man had been ill the same way the Mistress was. Poor fellow had lost his contents from both ends until he wasted away to near nothing. It had been slow, just like the Mistress' illness was, dragging on for weeks and seeming to be better from time to time. In hindsight, he reckoned it was a cancer. The new countess must have the same. Terrible shame for one so young, even if she was not very nice.

When no one else got sick, the villagers thought the old man must have the right of it.

/  
/

The Earl of Matlock had been really nervous the first time that he had put a bit from the little vial into Caroline's food. After all, he had no idea what the substance was. All he was sure of was that it was not the same poison that had killed his father. Richard had told him everything about their father's death. There was no smell of bitter almonds in this vial.

Caroline had gotten very ill and then had slowly recovered. Interesting. He did it again and the same thing happened. It was actually perfect. He could just give her a small bit now and then, slowly increasing the frequency. It would look like she had some sort of natural illness.

In those first few weeks, he had had nightmares. Some were the result of the horror of what he was doing and some were due simply to his fear of being caught. But as the illness was widely accepted as real, those had slowly faded.

He was amazed at the outpouring of concern from friends and neighbors. Lady Matlock had even come to stay with him in his time of need. Her news from town had been most welcome. At first he had been the butt of jokes for marrying such a vile creature. Then, as he stayed by Caroline's side during her illness, the gossip had slowly changed. The Ton had decided that, insane as it was, his must have been a love match.

Having given her a new dose that morning, William now sat by her bed and watched her restless sleep. He wondered how long he should let the whole thing go on. The contents of the vial would run out. Besides, it would be cruel to extend this. He decided then and there that the next dose would be much larger. Hopefully it would do her in and relieve her suffering.

In a twist of fate, he never had to carry it through. This latest dose proved to be enough. This time, on top of her intestinal distress and headaches, poor Caroline developed fever. She was bled again, but it did not help.

In a twist of his mind, William Fitzwilliam could even believe he had not killed her, not really. After all, it was fever that took her away.

/  
/


	20. Chapter 20

**Well, here we are. This is the final chapter. I am sorely afraid that the fortunes of the Bingleys are not going to satisfy anyone. Sorry. I put that poor couple through so many things in my mind. In the end, my characters led me here. Janice**

**OOPS. Big oops. I was too tired last night and posted without my history note. Sorry. Sorry. It is really important here. So here it is:**

History Note:

On September 1, 1816, General Hon. Charles Fitzroy married one Eliza Barlow.

There has to be _something_ written about this Eliza Barlow _somewhere_, but I could not find it.

If they had any issue, the peerage doesn't know it.

Fitzroy did have one child. He had a son, Hugh Huntly, who was born illegitimately back in 1796.

Charles Fitzroy died on October 18, 1831 at the age of 69.

. #i108552

/

/

**Redemption**

**Chapter 20**

**Matlock, Derbyshire**

**July 20, 1812**

The new Earl of Matlock ran his fingers lovingly across the chiseled inscription, careful not to touch the wet mortar that held the stone in place. A hand on his shoulder slowly drew his attention. He followed the hand to the arm and then finally to the face of his younger brother.

"I think she will like it here, Richard. She is truly where she wished to be, surrounded by nobility. She is now well and truly one of us, a countess forever and ever."

For a moment all Richard could do was to give his brother's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. William had changed. Never would Richard have considered sentimentality a part of his brother's nature. Maybe it was true. Maybe it had been a love match after all. "We should return to the house now. The sooner we go back, the sooner all these blasted guests will leave."

After taking another long look at Caroline's stone, William nodded. The brothers returned to the house. Somehow Richard's hand remained on William's shoulder until they reached the main doors.

/  
/

William had the odd sense of being outside of himself. It seemed he was watching his interactions with the mourners from a distance. _Mourners! Ha!_ With very few exceptions, no one was here to condole with him. They came at him, one after another, to forward their selfish desires and schemes.

"Matlock."

"Portland."

"We all grieve for you. She was so young." The Duke barely paused before he brought forward the young woman beside him. "You remember my niece, do you not? Lord Matlock, allow me reintroduce Lady Anne…"

William did not hear the words after that. An oh so sincere looking young lady was before him. She mouthed some things. William was very sure that they were all the proper words for such a time. He studied her face. There was such a genuine look of grief about her. If he had not known better, he would have been comforted. _Heavens, she even has tears in her eyes_. Then she put her hand on his arm. He stared at it. From the corner of his eye, he saw the real woman when a flash of satisfied pleasure flitted across her face.

_Ah, my poor dear. You were doing so well. Despair not. You are young. Soon you will learn to leave self-congratulations for your performances to the privacy of your own rooms._

Then there were the men to whom William's father had lost so much money at the gaming tables. To a man they were all already a little in their cups. The William who was outside himself looking in vaguely wondered which one of them would be the first to lose his estate in a game of cards.

But in between all the Lady Annes and the gamblers, there were the men who had truly grown rich off of Matlock's coffers. William had spent so much time with the estate's books that he could place each man together with his failed investment scheme. While Lord Coffee Plantation in Ireland was talking, it suddenly came to William that the man was smirking.

_Every one of these men has smirked. They think me my father's son. No. They know me to be my father's son. They are sure that I am easy prey. They do not even bother to hide the contempt in which they hold me. _

/  
/

"Louisa."

Even though the voice was gentle, it sent a jolt of surprise through her. She had not expected this. Why was he here?

"Mr. Hurst."

"I am very sorry. Truly. This must be very difficult for you."

Louisa could see that he was genuinely concerned for her. A small ray of hope appeared. It was quickly extinguished by her guilt. She had no business hoping for anything. "It is my fault. I should never have abandoned her. I should never have let her go off by herself. Now she is dead."

"It is not your doing."

There was power and conviction in Hurst's voice. Louisa's eyes flew to his face.

"You must believe me in this. One way or another, Caroline would always have her own way. Nothing that you did or did not do ever had any effect." Hurst knelt down and took Louisa's hand into his. "You tried so hard to help her, to please her. You went so far as to lose yourself to her."

He paused and put his hand on her chin. Gently he moved her head until she had to look at him. "I miss the Louisa that I once knew. If she is still here somewhere, I should like her to come home."

He did miss her. Until Caroline's interference grew too large, Louisa had always seen to it that Hurst was comfortable. He always had very good food and wine. When he woke on a settee, there was always a cushion under his head and a rug to keep him warm. She made sure someone tended to his gout, even when he did not complain_. Stop._

Sighing, he rose and turned away. It was just a dream that his Louisa still existed.

Hurst stood looking out the window for a long time. Then he made his way over to a side table and poured a brandy. He was about to take a large drink when a small hand stayed him.

"Mr. Hurst, you are limping a little today. I am so sorry to see that terrible gout bothering you again. The new earl's wine is very good. It should not hurt your ankles the way that brandy does. Pray have a seat and wait just a moment. I will bring some to you."

As Louisa hurried away to request a glass of wine, Hurst did sit down. Just with not standing, he did feel better. A small smile formed on his face.

/  
/

**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**July 21, 1812**

Darcy's body woke well before his mind. His hand was full of flesh and his erection was pushing into a generous and soft buttock. He slid his other arm under his wife. In a moment, both of his hands were filled with her heavy breasts and his sleepy mind was filled with how she had ravished him the night before. The more swollen her body became; the more she seemed to crave him. Moaning, he slid one hand down to her center. Then she moaned. He could feel her wetness coming on. Still asleep and she wanted him. He pulled on one of her enlarged nipples. She pushed her hips into him immediately. He was the most fortunate man to have ever lived.

/  
/

When he woke again later, his hands were empty. His eyes immediately flew open. All was well. She was still there with him. However, now she wore a robe and was sitting up. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and pulled himself up onto the pillows. Then, he chuckled. Elizabeth was completely preoccupied with devouring a lemon pastry.

She finished, licked her fingers, and gave him a quick kiss. Then she not so gracefully got off the bed and opened the door to the hall. "Adams. Please have Cook send up some of the beef left over from last night. And some lettuce and some tea. And fresh bread with butter. Oh, and fruit. Please also have her send up some coffee for the master."

When Elizabeth turned around, Darcy was sporting a wide grin.

"What?"

"Hungry?"

She looked around for something to throw at him but there was nothing soft. She settled for frowning.

In a moment he was off the bed and pulling her into his arms. "I am sorry. I am not teasing, not really. It is just so wonderful to wake up and see you feeding our child. I missed you so much these last days at Matlock."

Placated, Elizabeth wove her arms around him. "I missed you, too."

/  
/

**Matlock, Derbyshire**

**July 23, 1812**

Barely resisting the impulse to order another bath, the new Earl of Matlock sank heavily into a chair. He had bathed three times in the last two days and still he did not feel clean.

All the people from Caroline's funeral kept running through his mind. _I am one of them. I have always been one of them. _ _I used Caroline just like they are trying to use me, just like they used my father, just like I have always tried to use them. _

He was dirty. He was one of them.

Just then the door opened and Richard entered the room. _Richard. Brave and strong and true. I will save Matlock. Caroline's sacrifice will not line the pockets of the Ton. I will rebuild this place for deserving Fitzwilliams, for Richard and his sons._

/  
/

**Hunsford, Kent**

**August 10, 1812**

The greasy, little blob was talking. Even as he shoved another piece of ham into his already overfilled mouth, he was talking. A wave of nausea hit Charlotte Collins. She turned her face to her own plate, willing the reaction to go away.

It did not. It had never bothered her before, not really. None of it had. She had been able be easy with Lady Catherine's arrogant interference. She had happily tolerated the company of the insipid Miss Anne de Bourgh. She had been able to put up with Collins' deplorable manners, his grating conversation, his smell.

But now, everything little thing made her ill. Charlotte knew the reason. It had all started when news of Mrs. Bennet's delicate condition reached Hunsford. Until that moment, Charlotte had been lying to herself. She had been claiming to be quite content with her situation. What she had really been content with was the certainty that she would one day return to the familiar society in Meryton. She would live out her days in wealth and comfort, surrounded by people whose company she enjoyed.

Now the future was something that Dante could have written. What was her sin that she should be forever in the company of only Mr. Collins and Anne de Bourgh?

There was no relief here, none at all. The local society was much too high for the Collins. The villagers and servants were also closed to her. They would never befriend her for fear that their secrets would be repeated to Rosings.

There was not even a child to make it easier to bear. Seven months of tolerating Collins' sweaty rutting and there was no child. Would there ever be one? How would Charlotte stand to live if Mrs. Bennet bore a son?

/  
/

**Hunsford, Kent**

**September 1, 1812**

Charlotte clumsily applied a plaster to her right hand, all the while silently cursing Elizabeth. _She would not have this trouble. Her left hand works as well as her right. Forget that. She has plenty of servants to do it for her. _

The parsonage's cook gave Charlotte a sympathetic look from time to time, but did not stop working to help her. Heaven forbid that anything should make the meal late. Anne de Bourgh would hear of it. Mr. Collins will tell the tale himself. Then the elderly cook would be again called to Rosings to explain. No. The cook valued her position. Mrs. Collins would just have to make do.

Shaking off her resentment, Charlotte turned her full attention back to the wound that one of her hens had inflicted. The bleeding had stopped, but the pain continued. It was her own fault and Charlotte knew it. She had been distracted by her brooding thoughts and that wicked brown-feathered fiend had taken advantage.

Adding a little more plaster, Charlotte leaned back to let it dry. _Oh no. It is bleeding again._ Huffing, she wiped away the wet plaster and once more applied some pressure. At least her left hand was useful enough for that.

_It is not fair. It is not right._

Suddenly it hit Charlotte. It was not right. None of it was right. None of Mrs. Bennet's behavior was right.

She should have been parading her bulging belly in front of Charlotte's mother. She should have been telling Lady Lucas that it was such a shame that Charlotte would lose Longbourn now. She could hear Mrs. Bennet's voice, imagine her words. _Well, we can both hope for a girl. Can we not? But we are such friends that I must be wholly truthful. This time is different from the other five. It is a boy. I am sure._

Charlotte knew Mrs. Bennet too well. The old witch would never be able to resist slowly torturing the Lucas family. She should be a daily visitor to Lucas Lodge. Nothing would keep her from it. She would walk over hot coals if need be.

_And there is more that is not right!_ Mrs. Bennet would not stay in a hired place with only Kitty to look after her. Kitty was useless. No. Mrs. Bennet would not stay away in Ramsgate. When she was not out crowing over her coming heir, she would be laying in state in her rooms. The whole Longbourn house would be upside down waiting on Mrs. Bennet hand and foot.

_It is all a lie. Why did I not realize it before?_

Charlotte was suddenly very sure. Mrs. Bennet intended to steal Longbourn_. Over my dead body._

/  
/

**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**September 8, 1812**

Darcy came awake quickly. Something was wrong. Elizabeth was gone. He grabbed his robe and opened the door to the hall. "Where is Mrs. Darcy?"

"She has gone downstairs, sir."

Darcy rang for his man and dressed as quickly as possible. Elizabeth never got out of bed so early these days.

He found her in the still room, hanging roses up to dry. The whole long table was filled with cut blooms and a great many bunches had already been hung to dry. How long had she been up? He tried to get her to turn over the rest of the chore to a servant. Elizabeth should not work this hard in her condition. She should come and have some breakfast. Then she should rest.

Elizabeth cheerfully declined and hummed as she continued her work.

The whole day followed the early morning. Elizabeth found one large chore to do after another. Darcy had been sure that she would fall asleep after tea, but instead she wanted to go for a walk. She was so large now that it should more properly be called a waddle. However, he was not about to say so. He had learned not to tease a pregnant Elizabeth.

Having insisted on going with her, he was surprised at how much energy she had. It had been at least two months since she had taken such a brisk walk.

Suddenly, she stopped. She was lifting the hem of her dress and looking down at her shoes. They were wet and getting wetter.

_Oh no. Did I just wet myself? _Elizabeth could not look at Fitzwilliam. She could only stare at her shoes and feel more water running down her leg. Then an ache moved though her lower back followed by a cramp in her belly. Her hands dropped her skirts and closed low over her bulge.

"Elizabeth, what? What is it?"

"I think we should return to the house."

/  
/

It was not until after eight the next morning that an infant's cry was heard. Darcy had been pacing for hours outside Elizabeth's room. He knew he should stay out until they came for him, but he could not help it. He burst in. "Elizabeth, are you alright? Is she well?" He pushed through the people at the bedside and knelt by his exhausted wife. Her eyes were bright and she was smiling. "A son. We have a son."

/  
/

**Ramsgate, Kent**

**September 8, 1812**

So far everything had been easy. It had taken only a little of Charlotte's savings to send someone to Ramsgate to locate the Bennets. True, he had not seen them. The neighbors said they never left the cottage. But he did find out where they were.

Anne de Bourgh had been easy to manipulate, too. Once the little creature thought it her idea that the Collins have a day of sea air, nothing could stop the trip.

Now they stood watching the rear door of the handsome, little house. Charlotte had some trouble in convincing her husband that they should enter through the back. Once again, though, she had triumphed. The little toad now considered surprising his dear cousins as his own idea.

Finally a maid stepped out, basket on her arm, and headed off towards the village. This was the moment. Entering through the kitchens, they had only to follow the loud lamentations of Mrs. Bennet. Mr. and Mrs. Collins did not run into any servants as they crossed into the main hall and stopped before a pair of doors. Mrs. Bennet's wails could clearly be heard from within. Taking a deep breath, Charlotte opened the doors wide.

Mrs. Bennet was suddenly silent. There in the room with her, sprawled out of a settee, was Kitty Bennet; and Kitty was very swollen with child.

/  
/

**New York, New York**

**October 10, 1812**

Charles Bingley walked the floor of the apartment's drawing room. It was amazing that he was upright. Every time that Jane had screamed, Charles had taken a drink. Jane had done a lot of screaming. But now, everything had gone quiet and it had brought Charles to his feet. He wished that he was brave enough to go to Jane's rooms and see what the situation was, but he knew that he was not.

Finally, a servant came. She held a white bundle in her arms. "Mr. Bingley, you have a daughter, sir."

Slowly he approached. The servant folded the swaddling back so Charles could see the baby's face. She opened her little eyes. They were blue, just like Jane's. Bingley broke into a broad smile and then promptly passed out.

/  
/

**Longbourn, Hertfordshire**

**October 28, 1812**

After her subterfuge had been discovered, Mrs. Bennet had wasted no time in heading back to Longbourn. That cottage had been small and uncomfortable and she wanted to be home. The Nicholls might be poor substitutes for the Hills, but they were far better than one lazy maid.

However, returning to Meryton had not been so pleasant. Somehow the neighborhood had come to believe that Fanny wanted to cheat the Collins out of Longbourn. Of all the ridiculous notions! It was that Collins who was trying to claim an estate that was not rightfully his own! She had only been taking the opportunity to set things to rights. In time, everyone would see that.

But for now, no one came to visit her. No one was at home to receive her calls. She no longer ventured into Meryton. Why, even the shopkeepers ignored her. Yes, for now, she was trapped in this house with only her husband and Kitty.

Mr. Bennet did nothing but laugh at her. Kitty did nothing but eat and complain. If only Mary and Lydia were here, but they had still not returned. No matter how many letters Mrs. Bennet sent, there was never an answer. She seethed again thinking of how Mr. Bennet refused to demand that the girls come home. It was not to be borne.

A horrible scream from Kitty rent the morning air. Mrs. Bennet hurried down the hall to her daughter's room. She stayed only a moment before returning to her own rooms and ringing for her salts. Kitty's time had come. How was Fanny to bear it?

/  
/

Before the night was over, Kitty Bennet delivered a large and healthy male child.

/  
/

**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**September 3, 1816**

Darcy held his infant daughter in his arms as he watched an unmarked carriage pull to a stop in front of Pemberley House. An unknown man exited, followed by a servant and what looked like her child.

To Darcy's great surprise, the man then reentered the carriage and it drove away.

He strode from the room, calling for Mrs. Darcy, for little Mary Anne's nurse and for Mrs. Reynolds. By the time that Darcy made it outside, the carriage was far in the distance. The frightened servant looked up at him and handed him a letter.

Everyone else arrived at the same time. The nurse took Mary Anne away. Elizabeth spoke softly to the little girl and the servant. "You must both be tired. Mrs. Reynolds will take you to the kitchens for some refreshment while we read your letter."

Elizabeth and Darcy returned to his study where he broke open the missive. His face became more somber as he read. When he finished, he led Elizabeth to a chair and sat her down. Then he handed the paper to her.

_Dear Mr. Darcy,_

_Forgive me in advance for dropping these two on your doorstep and then leaving. However, I have already had much more than I bargained for in transporting them here to you. If you do not wish them to remain, it is now your problem._

_I was hired by a shopkeeper in New York to bring them here. His name was Charles Bingley. He said that the girl is your niece and that you would happily take her in. He said to tell you that neither Mrs. Bingley nor the new babe survived her lying-in. Due to his reduced circumstances, he could not possibly care for the child._

_I am done now and back to my own concerns._

The letter was unsigned.

Tears formed in Elizabeth's eyes. Jane was gone. It was hard to believe.

It had been over two and half years after Jane had disappeared from Pemberley that Elizabeth had first heard from her. Her sister had apologized over and over. They were not allowed to send letters to England during the war. With the restoration of peace, Jane could now let them know that she and Charles were doing very well. Little Elizabeth Louisa had been born to them on in October of 1812. No other children had come. Poor Charles and his dear partners had lost nearly all their funds in a failed shipping venture. There was only enough left to open a little shop in New York. They happily lived above it, although Jane did wish for a garden for little Lizzy and perhaps another servant or two.

Only a few more letters from Jane had come. The last one had been more than four months ago and now Elizabeth knew the reason. Jane would never write again.

Mrs. Darcy stood and wiped the tears from her eyes. There would be time for those later. Right now there was a little person that had to be very uneasy. "Come Fitzwilliam. Let us go meet our niece."

/  
/

Despite all the letters they sent, the Darcys never heard from Charles Bingley again.

/  
/

**Euston, Suffolk**

**June 8, 1823**

Women were not allowed at funerals but that did not stop Lettice. She was not about to leave her boys in the care of these Bennet men while they watched their father entombed. Thus she ignored all the contemptuous stares and stayed with nine year old Henry and four year old William through the whole thing.

She held William's hand for comfort and Henry did the same for her. What a strong and good boy her eldest was. He would need to be, surrounded by this nest of vipers.

There was a commotion near the entrance of the crypt and Lettice looked up to see that Darcy had finally arrived. If it had not been for the necessity of showing no weakness in front of these men, she would have sagged with relief. Little William caught sight of him and ran over. Darcy swept the boy into his arms and walked over to stand behind Lettice. "Forgive my late arrival. I lost a carriage wheel on the way here."

Formidable, tall and dark, his presence let the Bennets know that the new Earl of Arlington was not alone.

/  
/

**Hornby Castle, North Yorkshire**

**September 15, 1823**

Young Robert Darcy, 1st Earl of Holderness of the new creation, sat silently by his father's side. Hornby's steward was reporting on the progress of the harvest. Robert was itching to ride out and see everything for himself, but he knew that would have to wait until morning. They had arrived too late today to see the workers and the fields. He was bursting with pride to be helping, for the first time, with supervising the harvest at his own estate. The family would stay here through the spring.

"You have learned a great deal at Pemberley, but Hornby has its own concerns. This year, we will let the steward see to you brother's estate and you will see to yours."

Darcy had not mentioned another reason for them all to stay put. Elizabeth was increasing again and he did not want her to have to travel as she became large. All the children had been born at Pemberley so far. This one would start its life at Hornby Castle.

If it was a third boy, he would become the master of Rosings. Darcy had been surprised when Anne had left Rosings to him. It was true that he had saved the estate after Lady Catherine's mismanagement had almost caused it to be sold, but he never expected Anne to be grateful.

Now that a new babe was coming, Darcy could only be pleased. None of his sons would have to have an occupation.

In future years, Darcy would look back on this moment and laugh. His fourth child had indeed been a boy. However, that son showed no interest in anything but science; flatly refused to pay the least attention to estate management; and declared that if Darcy left Rosings to him, it would just sit and rot. He was going to spend his life with his experiments. And so he had. Rosings went to Mary Anne.

/  
/

**Hornby Castle, North Yorkshire**

**September 25, 1823**

Darcy's pregnant wife had just backed him up against the wall when a knock interrupted them. Sighing, she released him.

"Enter."

"An express has just arrived, sir."

Darcy took the missive from the salver and waved the servant away.

"It is from Richard."

Darcy quickly opened and read it. "Word had just arrived from Ireland. William has died."

Neither Darcy was surprised. The Earl of Matlock had been ill for months. Nor could either  
Darcy be particularly grieved. Fitzwilliam had only known his cousin as a gambler, a rake and a scoundrel. Just when William seemed to be changing for the better, he had left for Ireland and had never returned. Matlock had been in Richard's hands for years now.

Still, both Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth felt pain for Richard. He had come to value his brother and this would hurt.

After a long silence, a slight giggle escaped Elizabeth. Darcy looked at her in question.

"Mary is now a countess. Who would have imagined it, all those long years ago at Longbourn?"

Darcy answered with a smile. "And little Richard is now Viscount Milton. I shall make very sure that Robert addresses him properly when they next meet."

Husband and wife now shared wide grins. Robert had been insufferable to his young cousin when the Crown had created Robert the new Earl of Holderness. He had demanded that little Richard Fitzwilliam refer to him as Holderness. He had condescended enough to tell little Richard that, being as they were cousins and all, Richard did not have to call him Your Lordship.

/  
/

Grosvenor Square, London**  
**March 27, 1828

Tears in her eyes, Louisa Hurst boarded the carriage to follow her husband's body to his brother's estate. He had always wanted to be buried with his parents and she would take him there.

He had been so good to her, taking her back when she did not deserve it. She had done her best to be a good wife after that. It was a shame that no child had ever come, but at least they had tried. But despite that, he had been content. Louisa was sure that much was true. It was also a blessing that he had passed away quietly in his sleep. He had never liked pain and she was very glad that he had not suffered.

Now she would be all alone. Well, she would not think about that, not yet. First she would see Mr. Hurst to where he belonged. Then she would think about the future. At least she now had some friends. Perhaps it would not be so bad.

/  
/

**Ramsgate, Kent**

**August 13, 1828**

Mrs. Bennet pulled the pillow around her ears. Those young ruffians downstairs were making so much noise. Did young men not have any manners these days? What were they doing down there anyway? Frankly, she was too afraid to go down and look.

_If I was back at Longbourn, I would be far away from such noise and would have servants to deal with it anyway! Oh, it is so unfair. _She had never made peace with losing her home nor had she ever been the least bit thankful for this little cottage in Ramsgate. It was such a pittance from that undeserving Elizabeth. It was disgraceful that the child had done so little for the woman who had raised her.

At least she did not have to deal with Thomas Bennet anymore. _ May he be rotting in Hell._ The only thing that she regretted, other than losing Longbourn of course, was that he had died so peacefully. They had found him in his library, a book on his lap and a glass of brandy nearby. His heart had gone, they said. He was so restful looking that he must have died in his sleep. There was no justice in that. If anyone should have had a long, painful death it was Thomas. For him to have passed on in his favorite place and in the comfort of sleep was unforgiveable. There was no justice, none at all.

A loud crash downstairs was followed by even louder laughter. Those boys must be drinking again. _Oh, where is Kitty? Staying out all night again, I wager. Oh, where are my salts?_

/  
/

**Darcy House, London**

**April 12, 1831**

Elizabeth had just made a final round downstairs. The whole house was ablaze with light and everything was in readiness. She just needed to check on Lizzy. The maid opened the door to Elizabeth's knock and then stepped back. Standing there was such a beauty. Lizzy had the blond hair and blue eyes of both her parents. Other than that, she truly did not much physically resemble either one. Still, she had certainly inherited a gentle nature and undeniable loveliness. Many a young man would lose his heart to this one. Fitzwilliam was already a nervous wreck and Lizzy's ball had not even started yet. Elizabeth wondered if he would live through it when it was Mary Anne's turn.

/  
/

**Pemberley, Derbyshire**

**August 9, 1831**

A smile crept over Darcy's face as he read the post. _Where is Elizabeth?_ He got up and left his study to find her.

The moment he opened the heavy oak doors, beautiful music surrounded him. He could not resist heading to the music room. When he got there, the sight took his breath away. Tears formed in his eyes. No matter how many times he was privileged to see this same thing, it never failed to move him.

Georgiana, still such a small child in so many ways, had regained her music. But now it was somehow even better. Perhaps it was because she did not have any adult notions of embarrassment. Whatever the reason, Georgiana now played with her whole heart and body.

Lydia, as always, was by her side.

Darcy wiped a tear away and continued on to find his wife.

Elizabeth was sitting in the rose garden, basking in the late morning sun.

"Lizzy, you will not believe the letter that I have received."

She arched her eyebrow in question.

He sank down next to her. "Do you remember, all those years ago, that little urchin that I told you about? The one that saved my life that first night in Newgate?"

Just thinking of that time brought a chill to Elizabeth, but she forced it away. "Yes. How could I ever forget?"

"Newbold was his name, Michael Newbold. He has written a letter."

Now Elizabeth's face broke into a wide smile. "Oh, I am so happy that he survived. I have often wondered. Is he in Australia still?"

"Yes. He not only survived, he now owns his own cattle ranch. I knew he could do well. He has also taken a wife and she has given him a son. They have called the boy Darcy. Darcy Newbold. He says it is in gratitude for my saving his life. He promises to raise the boy to be an upstanding man." Darcy stopped and blushed. "He says he wants the boy to honor his namesake."

/  
/

**December 1, 1831  
Gretna Green, Scotland**

This time it was Darcy who had his wife up against a wall. Just the idea of bringing her back here had kept him hard for weeks. They had no more than gotten the door to the room closed before he had started unbuttoning her clothes. It was too slow. He took his hands and rent the fabric. Her corset and chemise had fared no better. Now here she was; breasts bared, breathing hard and back against the wall. He placed his hands on either side of her, bracing himself.

He leaned in close. Elizabeth could feel the heat rolling off him in waves. Her knees nearly gave way when he whispered in her ear, "I am going to devour you."

And then, he did.

/  
/

**The end.**


End file.
